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OCTOBER 1968 
,, 600 



MAGAZINE 

SCIENCE FICTION 






The Villains 
from Vega IV 
* by 

H. L. GOLD 

and 

E. J. GOLD m 



■ fe: 
- s 




THE WARBOTS 

A History of Combat 
from 1975 A.D. 
to 14,750 A.D. 

• 

A New Science 
Fiction Novelette 
by 

CHRISTOPHER 

ANVIL 

• 

Behind the 
Sandrat Hoax 

• 

FOR YOUR 
INFORMATION 

• 

Remember the Orbit 
of Explorer I? 
by 

WILLY LEY 

MACK REYNOLDS 

• 

ALGIS BUDRYS 
KRIS NEVILLE 

and many more 




THANK YOU... 

We’re grateful to all the science-fiction fans 
who gave Qur publications a clean sweep of 
every professional Hugo Award at the 1967 
World Science Fiction Convention. And 
we’re proud that you’ve selected us for the 
Best Magazine Award for the past two con- 
secutive years. We’re even more grateful to the many loyal 
readers who have made it possible for both 
GALAXY and IF to appear monthly from now 
on. That means we can bring you twice as 
many of the best stories being written by the 
best science-fiction writers of all time. 

...AND COME AGAIN 

To earn your continued support, we’re de- 
termined to make GALAXY and IF even 
better in the future. You’ll regret missing a single issue. So to 
be sure instead of sorry, why not fill in the 
coupon— or write the information on a sheet 
of plain paper— and send it in today? You’ll 
save money, too! 



GALAXY PUBLISHING CORPORATION 

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QlAXXif 

MAGAZINE 

ALL STORIES NEW 



Galaxy Is published in French, Ger- 
man, Italian, Japanese and Spanish. 
The U. S. Edition Is published in 
Braille and Living Tape. 




October, 1968 • Vol. 27, No. 3 



FREDERIK POHL 

Editor 



CONTENTS 



NOVeUTTES 

THE VILLAINS FROM VEGA IV 8 

by H.L Gold and EJ. Gold 

THYRE PLANET 41 

by KiTi Neville 

CRIMINAL IN UTOPIA 72 

by Mock Reynolds 

I BRING YOU HANDS 103 

by Colin Kapp 

BEHIND THE SANDRAT HOAX 172 

by Christopher Anvil 
SNORT STOms 

ALL THE MYRIAD WAYS 32 

by Lorry Niven 

HOMESPINNER 66 

by Jock Wodhoms 



A VISIT TO CLEVELAND GENERAL .... 125 



by Sydney Von Scyoc 
NON-FACT ARTICU 

THE WARBOTS 142 

by lorry S. Todd 

SCIENCE DEPARTMENT 

FOR YOUR INFORAAATION 93 

by Vnily Lay 

FEATURES 

EDITORIAL 4 

by Fraderik Pohl 

GALAXY BOOKSHELF 164 

by Algh Budrys 

GALAXY'S STARS 193 



Cover by CHAFFEE from THE VlUAINS FROM VEGA IV 



WILLY LEY 

Science Editor 

JUDY-LYNN BENJAMIN 

Associate Editor 

LESHR DEL REY 

Managing Editor 
ROBERT M. GUINN 

Publisher 

LAWRENCE LEVINE ASSOC. 

Advertisiag 

MAVIS FISHER 

Circalatioa Director 



GALAXY MAGAZINE Is published 
monthly by Galaxy Publishing 
Corporation. Main offices: 421 
Hudson Street, New York, N.Y. 
10014. 60c per copy Subscrip- 
tion: (12 copies) $6.00 in the 
United States, Canada, Mexico, 
South and Central America and 
U. S. Possessions. Elsewhere 
$7.00. Second-class postage 
paid at New York, N.Y. and at 
additional mailing offices. Copy- 
right New York 1968 by Galaxy 
Publishing Corporation, Robert 
M. Guinn, President All rights 
Including translations reserved. 
All material submitted must be 
accompanied by self-addressed 
stamped envelopes. The pub- 
lisher assumes no responsibility 
for unsolicited material. All 
stories printed In this magazine 
are fiction and any slmliarity 
between characters and actual 
persons Is coincidental. 



Printed In the U.S.A. 

By The Guinn Co.. Inc. N. 
Title Reg. U. S. Pat Off. 



Y. 







Majority Rule 



A Eundr^ and olnetx-two 
years ago tiSe United States 
was bom after a revolution aun- 
ed largely at l£e end of ''taza*< 
tion witHout representation,” TEe 
colonists did not suffer very 
gravely under EngEsU rule in 
any tangible terms; wEere tEey 
suffered was in tEe galling sense 
of being unable to decide tEeir 
own destinies. WEerefore tEig re- 
public was formed, in an attempt 
to establisE “government of tEe 
people, by tEe people and for 
tEe people.” 

TEe presidential election cam- 
paign we are now going tErougE 
is one of tEe mecEanisms design- 
ed to attain tEat idealistic goal. 
It was an astoni^ingly radical 
innovation. Nobody tEougEt it 
would work. Nations Ead elected 
tEeir rulers before, but never on 
sucE terms as tSese: never rulers 
wBose powers were so strictly de- 
fined by a Constitution and wEose 
terms of office were so depend- 
ent on tEe continuing confidence 
of tEe voters. Above all, never 
before Ead an electorate been so 
large; if it did not include wom- 
en, or slaves, or more most of 
tEe propertyless, it did include 
most adult males. It was so radical 
t£at it dismayed even most of 
tEe framers of the Constitution, 



wEo Hedged tEeir bets witE t£c 
Electoral College, Hoping tEat 
some moderating influence mi^t 
keep tEe voters from electing a 
tyrant or an adventurer. 

Question is, do tEese institu- 
tions still work as tEey were in- 
tended, two centuries later? 

WEen l£e Constitution was 
written, PEiladelpEia was a two- 
day stagecoacE journey from 
New York, tEe city of WasEing- 
ton did not exist, tEe communi- 
cations between, say, SavannaH 
on tEe soutE and New England 
on tEe nortE were cEancy and 
slow. Even wEen tEere were tEir- 
teen states, no President was able 
to campaign in all of tEem. 

Witness tEe 1968 election. Ev* 
ery candidate, after tEe nomina- 
tions and before, Eas been on 
constant view before every voter 
interested enough to turn on a 
TV set. The vote itself will be 
as rapidly reported as tEe net- 
works think the public will stand 
for — they will know, by com- 
puter projection, the results 
from every state BaU an Hour 
after the polls close; TEey will 
know the results in some states 
hours before the polls close. It 
takes only a relatively small sam- 
ple to give a computer enou^ 
to make a projection.) TEat 



4 




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Edited by Judith Merril 

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Edited by Leon E. Stover 
and Harry Harrison 

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the basis of anthropology — the 
study of man — and the skill of 
some of the most prominent SF 
writers, APEMAN, SPACEMAN 
spans over two million years — 
from the time man was still swing- ' 
log on branches to his first walk 
in space, and beyond.' With a fore- 
word by well-known anthropologist 
Carleton S. Coon, and stories by 
such writers as 'Heinlein and 
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sample can come from as few 
as a dozen machines. 

WSat slows things down is the 
interpoation o^ human beings 
between macEine and inadiine — 
a dozen or more election board 
workers, poll watchers, party of- 
ficials in each polling place pain- 
fully recording the count. The 
machines are fast and reliable. 
The human beings are slow and 
sometimes otherwise. 

Race tracks do the thing bet- 
ter. There may be 200 parimutu- 
el windows to receive bets, but 
each sale at each one of them is 
automatically counted, added in, 
relayed to a central information 
file; odds are computed and pay- 
offs announced on electric dis- 
plays in a matter of seconds. It 
would be no trick to design a 
tree of such information-han- 
dling networks which could 
count every vote in the nation as 
soon as cast, and annoimce totals 
instantly. 

There are limitations, to be 
sure. One would be in the han- 
dling write-in votes. (But how 
often do write-ins affect a Presi- 
idential campaign?) It would 
seem that a little engineering 
could overcome most of the lim- 
itations rather easily. 

And if it couldn’t, is there 
any imaginable drawback to an 
instant automated counting of 
popular vote that is potentially 
more dangerous than, say, the 



chance of the wrong man being 
elected through our antiquated 
Electoral College system? 

Tt would be only a step, obvi- 
ously, to an automatic in- 
the-home voting machine which 
could let all of us vote on all 
major decisions at any time. On 
theoretical considerations, it 
might even be a good idea. After 
all, in theory our “representa- 
tives” are supposed to make the 
decisions the majority of us 
would make it we were consult- 
ed. Why not cut out the middle- 
man and let the electorate de- 
clare war, approve the appoint- 
ment of Supreme Court justices, 
levy its own taxes and in every 
other way conduct the affairs of 
government itself, by instant 
electronic referendum? 

The objection to the scheme is 
that we might be stampeded. 
And probably we would be, often 
enough. 

But the phenomenon that 
made our predecessors revolt 
against England is not unknown 
today. Large numbers of Ameri- 
cans feel as little represented in 
their government as any Boston 
Tea Party agitator did. Consid- 
ering how easily modem tech- 
nology could give us representa- 
tion, it seems a shame to cling 
to a system designed to fit into 
the technology of an age two cen- 
turies dead. — THE EDITOR 



6 





$XMNC16 

ff/m 



The Dark Continents 
of 

Your Mind 



DO YOU struggle for balance? Are you forever trying to 
maintain energy, enthusiasm and the will to do? Do your personcility 
and power of accomplishment ebb and flow — like a stream con- 
trolled by some unseen valve? Deep within you are minute organ- 
isms. From their function spring your emotions. They govern your 
creative ideas and moods — yes, even your enjoyment of life. Once they 
were thought to be the mysterious seat of the soul — and to be left 
unexplored. Now cast aside superstition and learn to direct intel- 
ligently these powers of self. 




Let the Rosicruclans; an age-old fra- 
ternity of thinking men and women (not 
a religion); point out how you may fash- 
ion life as you want it— by making the 
fullest use of these little-understood nat- 
ural /acuities which you possess; This Is 
a challenge to make the most of your 
liorltage as a human; Write for the Free 
Hook] (!The Mastery of Life,!! Address: 
Ncribe NJD. 



74e ROSICRUCIANS (AMORC) 

San Jose, California 95114 U.S.A. 



Scribe: N.J.D. 

The Rosicrudaiis (AMORC) 

San Jose, California 95114, U.SA. 

Please send copy of booklet, 
“The Mastery of life” which I 
sbaU read as directed. 

Name 

Address 

City 

State 

Please Include Your Zip Code 



7 




THE VILLAINS 
FROM VEGA IV 



by HI. GOLD AND E.J. GOLD 




Illustrated by GAUGHAN 



Those desperadoes from outer space 
were too slick for a simple android 
like myself — or maybe too stupid I 



I 

f knew iti I knew it! I knew 
* nometiiing like tHis would 
liii|t|irti wlTen tEey promoted ine 
riiiiii Aiulycop to AndytecI “Give 
inr mi erratic robot or berserker 
MMilidlil,” I’d told tHe CommI$-' 
ptlotirr — a Human — “and no- 
boily on tKe Force could subdue 
Ilirm fiifltcr or witli less fuss. 
rhtiin let me stay on tHeir suB- 
Irvrlnr And He’d said, “Sorry. 



Too many years in grade. Be- 
sides we need an Andyplnlo, and 
tHey’re all on assignment, so you 
are it” I opened my moutB to 
argue, but He said, “One more 
word and it’s back to tHe Vat. 
Don’t worry. You’ll do fine.” 
Fine, KuH? According to tiie 
specs, Robert E. Li, President of 
Vega IV, was nasty, impatient, 
cantankerous and argumentative 
— in otHer words, a typical 
Frontier Outworlder VIP — and 



9 



I, a hard-fisted hard-moutfied 
bull, had to keep him Happy 
while finding his runaway bride. 
If tEat isn’t a Vat situation, 
what is? 

“Besides,” added the Commis- 
sioner, “you’ll have use of an of- 
ficial antigrav car. That make it 
any better?” 

You bet it did. I’d never been 
in one, but naturally I’d been 
trained in its use. Now if only I 
could control my moutH and 
fists . . i 

T got up to the top of Bosyork- 
delpHia’s dome, wliere tfie 
starsfiips unloaded tfieir passen-i 
gers and freight, purposely early. 
Why give President L! something 
unnecessary to complain about? 

After the service sublevels, the 
top of the dome was quite a 
sight I was still taking it in 
when Li’s shuttle module came 
down and floated to a stop. He 
was the first off, flanked by two 
stewardesses, each carrying a 
suitcase. Maybe I do lack go- 
nads, hut I enjoy looking. They 
were something to look at They 
led him to the Purchasing booth, 
where He and the man in the 
booth seemed to have an argu-> 
ment before both nodded and the 
suitcases were turned over. The 
man gave Li a credit card and 
the stewardesses brought him to 
Customs — it was the only way 
out, so he Had no dioice. 



If I hadn’t studied Li’s Ber- 
tillon specifications, I would nev- 
er have spotted Him in that 
crowd. Pretty nondescript — 
about six-six, 250 pounds, tea- 
colored complexion, straight 
black hair, blue eyes, nothing to 
distinguish him from any other 
Outworlder from his sector, ex- 
cept maybe that frosty look Very 
Important Outworlders develop 
when they’ve just arrived on 
Earth, determined not to be im- 
pressed. 

He handed His passport to the 
clerk, who studied it only a mo- 
ment. “The *E’ is for ‘Eagle,’” 
Li explained proudly. 

“Very interesting, Mr. Presi- 
dent,” the clerk said. “You may 
pass through the gate.” 

“Just a minute,” said Li. He 
put two items on the desk. “I 
want to declare my Bird of Per- 
dition — commonly known as a 
BoP — and a High silk Hat.” 

“You don’t have to declare 
anything.” The clerk was obvi- 
ously used to all kinds of nutty 
life-forms. “You have diplomat- 
ic Immunity.” 

Preddent Li looked defeated 
for a nanosecond, and then He 
asked the clerk if he had even 
seen a BoP. The clerk told him 
no, he hadn’t, but there wasn’t 
time, and he pointed to the line 
behind LL I saw that this was 
a good time to introduce myself, 
SO I tapped Li politely on the 



10 



GALAXY 




shoulder. He whipped around, 
ready to jump down my throat, 
probably figuring I was a termi- 
nal guard going to ask Him to 
move on. 

“Excuse me, Mr. President,” 
I said quickly. “I am Andytec, 
your android detective and 
bodyguard.” Nothing there to of- 
fend, but he looked at me real 
sourly. I plowed on. “All us an- 
droids are called Andy, a custom 
which dates from the Third or 
Fourth World War — or maybe 
the. Second — when all North 
American soldiers were called 
Joe, all British soldiers called 
Tommy, and all Negroes were 
called George. As a matter of 
fact, the custom may date even 
farther back, to the time when — ” 

“All right!” he roared. “I get 
the picture, Andy, and I’m sure 
you’re quite learned on the sub- 
ject. 

Now that posed a problem. I 
am pretty good at android his- 
tory, which is my hobby, but did 
he want me to go on or was he 
roaring because he’d heard 
enough? You can never tell with 
these Outworlders. I decided to 
drop the subject. Besides, I want- 
ed to get on with the investiga- 
tion. The faster we found his 
runaway bride, the sooner I could 
sack out at the Precinct. 

“You requested a detective- 
bodyguard, Your Excellency, to 
help you find your wife.” 



“I know, I know. Let’s get 
going.” 

Herding him out of the space- 
port atop the city’s dome, I 
could see he was trying hard not 
to goggle at the sights. When he 
was in the antigrav car, he said, 
very definite, “You’ve probably 
been wondering why there are so 
many Vegan presidents coming to 
Earth.” 

I couldn’t he, could I? "No, 
sir, I haven’t.” 

“It’s because whenever a new- 
lywed couple decides to honey- 
moon on Earth, the bridegroom 
is made president and ^ven a 
few suitcases of enzymes to pay 
expenses.” 

“Yes, sir,” I said. “I studied up 
on it.” 

“Oh. Well, would you like to 
see my Bird of Perdition — my 
BoP?” He all but demanded. 

“Not particularly, sir,” 1 ad- 
mitted 

He looked annoyed, so I ex- 
plained how we androids have 
only very specialized curiosities, 
and mine didn’t include BoP’s. 

“Well, damn it,” he exploded, 
“you’re going to see one now! 
Blasted passengers on the ship 
might as well have been androids 
for all the interest they showed 
in it” 

He opened the small carrying 
case, and I heard a maniacal 
scream: “Murder! Murder most 
foul.” 



THE VILLAINS FROM VEGA IV 



n 




■IT^ell that was my line of 
* ■ work, but Vega IV is out 
of my jurisdiction. BoP’s are 
known all over tSe civilized gal- 
axy as the consciences of Vegans, 
wGo force criminals to carry tGese 
BoP’s around witS t£em. Tfiey 
Gave so few people tHat tfiey 
need every fiand, so locking tfiem 
up would be wasteful. Did tfiat 
mean President Li was a criminal? 
I figured tfiat was Bs problem, 
not mine, and I sure wasn’t go- 
ing to antagonize turn by asking. 

“Assassins 1” ifie tfiing was 
sfirieking. “Tfiy fiands reek witfi 
tfie smell of blood 1” 

“Pay no attention to it, Andy,” 
Li said. “BoP’s are raised on a 
diet of GotBc literature.” I guess 
fie tfiougfit tfiat explained every- 
thing. It probably would, if I 
knew wfiat Gotfiic literature was. 
“But,” fie continued, “tfiey’re 
better company tfian someone 
wKo keeps saying, ‘I know, sir,’ 
or 'Androids fiave specialized cu- 
riosities, sir.’ ” 

He was pretty red around tfie 
gills — I don’t mean fie fiad 
gills, th'ougli fie could fiave, of 
course, but wKere gills would 
have been if fie’d fiad any. 

“I’m sorry, Your Excellency,” 
1 said in a rush!, remembering 
what the Commissioner fiad said 
about the Vat. “I’ll try to be 
more curious about tfie subjects 
you wish to discuss.” 

‘That’s better.” 



If we don’t, I thouglit, I’ve 
fiad it. I wished I was back on 
my old beat on tfie android and 
robot slidewalks in FlabfiusB. 

“You’ll notice, Andy, tfiat tfie 
BoP has suction cups instead of 
feet. Also, it fias tfie body of a 
lion, the wings of a fiawk and 
tfie head of a woman, altfiou^ 
its overall length is only six and 
a half incBes. It is artificially 
bred through intense genetic ma- 
nipulation.” 

Hell, so was I. But I said, 
“Very interesting, Mr. President.” 

“You mi^t at least look inter- 
ested,” fie snapped. 

So I bugged my eyes out and 
leaned over the carrying case. 
“Yes, sir/” I said, wondering wfiat 
to say next. A tfiougfit came to 
me. “About your wife. Your Ex- 
cellency — fiave you brought 
along her Bertillon specifica- 
tions?” 

“You blatfiering son of a test 
tube!” fie fiowled. “Do you tfiink 
I’d come all this distance without 
a copy?” 

“No, sir. I’m sorry, sir. I was 
just making conversation,” I 
said, plus a lot more of tfie same, 
till lie calmed down and handed 
me tfie card. I stuck it into tfie 
car’s datapfione slot, waited a 
second, then handed it back. 

By then fie was off on another 
subject. “Wfiat do you tinnk my 
wife’s chances are of getting into 
3V, Andy?” 



12 



GALAXY 




I explained as tactfully as I 
could tliat fier cKances in 3V 
were zero. For some reason, tKat 
seemed to cKeer Him up. But 
tHen I added tHat if slie was in 
acting, she would be doing Off- 
Broadway. “THafs live,” I add- 
ed, “in a tEeater.” 

“I know. But wliicK one?” 

I told Him tKat BosyorkdelpKia 
was the theater capital of North 
America, with almost a dozen 
theaters. But locating Her would 
be relatively easy, if acting was 
really what she had in mind. It 
would only be a matter of Hours. 

“That’s fine, Andy,” Ke said, 
relaxing. “Take me to my hotel. 
I’m bushed.” 

“Yes, sir. Which hotel, sir?” 

“The Sheraton - Statler - Hilton 
Trenton.” 

“Do you have a reservation, 
sir?” 1 asked, and was immedi- 
ately sorry. 

“You i^ot, do I leok Hke an 
incompetent? Of course I have 
a reservation!” 

I decided not to try to get inr 
to any more conversations with 
this twitch if I could Kelp it. 
.When clearance was issued, I 
guided the antigrav into the po- 
lice lane and punched in the ho- 
tel’s code. 

L i coughed fo break the silence. 

I could see He was getting 
his jaw cranked for another in- 
formative talk. “I don’t suppose 

THE VILLAINS FROM VEGA IV 



you know the colcuizing expedi- 
tion to Vega IV was about as 
racially mixed as an expedition 
could be,” he said, looking at me 
sideways to see if I was going to 
say I knew or wasn’t interested. 
But I’d learned my lesson. I 
nodded contents-noted-and-wait- 
ing-for-more. “THat was long be- 
fore the city domes were built, 
when there was a lot of travel 
between cities and intermarriage. 
Speaking of wHicH, on Vega, we 
Have marriage! You’ve probably 
been wondering wHat our cus- 
toms are in that respect.” 

Well, I don’t know three Hu- 
mans who would Have wondered 
about it, much less an android, 
but I said that Had been on my 
mind. So Ke told me that this 
was His second wife. Li was 36, 
and she was 18. When sKe got to 
be 36, she’d marry an 18-year- 
old boy. 

“You can see, Andy, tHat a 36- 
year-old man is ideally suited te 
an 18-year-old girl, and an 18- 
year-old boy and a 36-year-eld 
woman are also perfectly match- 
ed. When we Vegans are 54, we 
cart marry anyone we please. I 
can’t wait; then my girl from 
high school and I are going to 
get married- She’s the only one 
for me — when we’re 54, of 
course. I see,” Ke said, leaning to- 
ward the side of the antigrav car 
and pointing down, “that EartK 
buildings don’t Have windows.” 

13 




“THat’s right, Mr. President,” 
I ^d. “They stopped building 
wkH glass and: such since the 
Great Crash, Black Wednesday,' 
October of 2929.” I wondered if 
I ought to tell him how the mar- 
riages of Earth were arranged by 
computer. 

“How are marriages here on 
Earth arranged, Andy? I don’t 
see how couples could meet.” 

So I told him. 

“Why the devil don’t you tell 
me these things without my hav- 
ing to ask?” . he demanded. But 
the BoP had heard “Great 
Crash” and was shrieking, “O 
dire destruction! Death stalks the 
streets! Life’s but a passing shad- 
ow!” 

T guess I knew what Gothic lit- 
erature was like then. Luck- 
ily, the closed carrying case muf- 
fled the fingemail-on-blackboard 
shriek, or there might have been 
an interplanetary incident. 

I put the antigrav down on the 
hotel roof, and we were met by 
the manager and some Andyhops 
who looked hopefully for some- 
thing to carry. 

“Ah, President Li, it is indeed 
an honor to have you here as 
Earth’s guest,” said the manager. 
“Your suite is ready. Have you 
left your luggage at the space- 
port?” 

“No. I only have my BoP — 
my Bird of Perdition — and a 

U 



high silk hat. Would you like to 
see the BoP?” 

“Not particularly, sir. We an- 
droids Have only limited ■— ” 
“Forget it. I suppose I call yoU 
Andymanager?” 

“Andyexec, sir. Right tins 
way.” 

We walked past the disap- 
pointed Andyhops, who stood Ky 
muttering ^ings about people 
who don’t have luggage. Li just 
stared at them. 

When we got out of the anti- 
grav tube and the manager 
grandly threw open the door of 
the Presidential Suite, I reeled 
back at such luxury — two rooms 
and a bath and a tialtJ 
“Naturally, sir,” the manager 
was saying, “the crowded condi- 
tion of Earth makes the use of 
more than one room by an indi- 
vidual economically unfeasible, 
but at the same time, sharing a 
room with someone else would be 
psychologically unsound. If you 
lived on Earth, you would appre- 
ciate the One-man, One-Room 
plan.” He waited for some gasp 
or something from Li, but Li 
wasn’t impressed. “Now you’ll 
want to know How to operate 
the electronic doors,” the manag- 
er went on bravely, showing Li 
the thumb lock as we went inside 
the suite. “And you turn the 
lights up or down here. This is 
to change channels on the 3V 
wall, and here — ” he made an 

GALAXY 




elaborate show of pushing a but- 
ton — "is the sink. You press 
this button and tell the sink 
what water temperature you 
want. If you get lonely in the 
shower, wfiicH is very usual for 
an Outworlder, you’ll find the 
shower an uncommonly good 
conversationalist. If you get Kim- 

— » 

Sry 

“What do you take me for — 
some kind of yokel from a hick 
system?” Li shouted at him. I 
could see it had been working 
on the man’s nerves for a while. 
“I’m from Vega, the most pro- 
gressive planet in the galaxy 1” 
He would have gone on, too, but 
the manager was backing out, 
with a sympathetic nod in my 
direction. 

“No, Your Excellency. Yes. 
Mr. President But you’ll want to 
know that the aMorm bed is 
concealed in the floor. I’ll raise 
it for you. OH, Murphy!” And 
the bed whispered into shape, 
and the door closed behind the 
unruffled manager. Damn, I 
wished I had his aplomb, if 
that’s the right word. But then 
he’d had lots of experience with 
Humans, Outworlder and other- 
wise, and this was my first — 
and probably last — experience. 

L i was talldng into the visi- 
phone: “Spaceport? This is 
Robert E. Li, President of Vega 
IV. I want reservations for three 



on the midnight flight t« the Ve- 
gan Sector.” 

“Tonight, Mr. President?” 

“Tonight, Mr. Prea^ent?” ask- 
ed the female Andyop. 

“That’s right,” Li tcM her. 

Three? I asked myself. Who 
could be going back with him? 
His wife, sure — mayhe. If he 
could talk her into it. But who 
was the third? 

I heard Li asking, “How did 
he say you change the ehannel?” 
I showed him, and he fiddled 
with the selector, found an old 
quiz show and settled bai^ on the 
airform bed. I stood around, won- 
dering what he thou^t £e need- 
ed a bodyguard for. Li let the 
BoP out of the carrying case, 
and the thing stretched, flew 
down clumsily to the floor and 
waddled over to the 3V and sat 
there, watching it. 

I called PoliCentral on the land 
line. They told me o^ere Li’s 
wife was — at the Q£f-Broad- 
way YWXA. I relayed tEs to 
the Outworlder. 

“X?” 

“Yes, Mr. President Interra- 
cial.” 

“Really? I thought it stood for 
Xenophobia.” 

“No, sir. Shall we go?” 

“As soon as this contest is 
over, Andy. I want to see who 
wins the washing machine, re- 
frigerator and automobile.” 

“Those people Have been dead 



THE VILLAINS FROM VEGA IV 



15 




for centuries,” I told him. “That’s 
an old Videotape; they’re com- 
peting for thipgs that have no 
Earthly use.”< 

“Maybe so,” he answered. “But 
don’t you like games?” 

“I don’t know, sir. I’ve never 
been in one.” 

He sat up suddenly. “Nuts! I 
was hoping the couple with eye- 
glasses would win. I never saw 
anyone who wore eyeglasses.” Of 
course he hadn’t; visual defects 
are corrected at birth. I explain-' 
ed that to the President, but He 
only said be knew that, as usual. 

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m really try- 
ing.” 

“Very,” he said nastily, and 
was asleep with the abruptness 
of a tropical night in the 3V pro- 
duction of Rain. 

II 

T he 3V exploded, and Li fell 
off the bed, while the BoP 
was stuck onto the screen and 
yelling, “Murder most foul!” 
again, in its normal conversation- 
al shriek. Its suction cups were 
plastered over the Head of a tank 
commander who was shouting, 
“Be liberated or die!” to a mob’ 
of half -naked green men standing 
around with spears in their hands. 

The tank sent another round 
over the green men, and it went 
off behind us. This time Li was 
awake. He peeled the screaming 



BoP off the 3V wall with a loud 
plopping sound and put it back 
in its carrying case. 

“Turn that bloody thing off!” 
he shouted at me. 

“Off, sir?” I said vacantly. 
“You can change channels and 
make it louder, but you can’t 
turn it off. With the 3V off, what 
would there he to do? And it 
would he so lonely.” 

Li sat on the edge of the air- 
form hed, shalong his head and 
looking disgusted. “Hairless green 
men with pointed ears, for Pe- 
ter’s sake!” he said more to the 
3V l£an to me. “These pre-inter- 
stellar movies — how unimagin- 
ative can you get? Couldn’t they 
have guessed there would be 
crawly, slithery, creepy things? 
Giant brains encased in glassite? 
Rock-eating things with springs 
for feet? Bah!” 

I picked that moment to get in 
a little information. “While you 
were asleep, sir — ” 

“Me, asleep?” he roared. “I 
was just resting my eyes!” 

“Yes, sir. While you were rest- 
ing your eyes, I had four hourly 
bulletins on Mrs. Li. Headquar- 
ters sa 3 TS she’s going under the 
alias of Lyla Lyons, and she has 
a part in a revival of that grand 
old whodunit. The Pool of the 
Moon, by Clyde Crane Camp- 
hell. It’s due to open tonight, as 
a matter of fact, at 8 :30. Now can 
we go?” 



16 



GAIAXY 




"Depends. WEat time is it, and 
wEere’s iEe tSeater?" 

I told Pm It was nearly 6:(MI 
and tEe tEepter was uptown, in 
tBe Providence Plantations. 

“No wonder I’m Eungry,” Ee 
said, studying tEe Eotel menu. 
“Steak and potatoes okay wilE 
you?” 

I said fine, and Ee puncBed tSe 
appropriate buttons. Out came 
two trays tEat Ee looked at im- 
believingly. 

“People eat tEis musH?” Ee de- 
manded. 

“Well,” I said diplomatically, 
“it’s not tEe Empire State Res- 
taurant — ” 

“All rigEt, we’ll go to tEe Em- 
pire State Restaurant.” 

I was willing, of course. I’d 
Heard about tEe place, but I nev- 
er could afford it. It Eas a Eim- 
dred and two different floors, 
eacE witE its own atmospEere and 
gravity, for any kind of extrater- 
restrisd you could name. And it 
cost a fortune. Li could afford it; 
He’d sold ps suitcases of enzymes, 
and I was on Eis expense account. 

We were about to leave wEen 
tEe 3V announcer started talMng 
about tEe news. Li sat down 
again and listened to it stral^t 
tErougE to tfie sports and weatE- 
er, tEen looked at me, puzzled, 

“TEat doesn’t make sense, An- 
dy. WitE tEe dty domes, wEy 
would anyone care about tEe 
weatEer?” 



But tEe newscaster answered 
for me: “And tEatis tEe way it 
was, for Wednesday, February 
14, 2541." 

CCXTery interesting for tEepeo- 
^ pie wEo lived tEen,” Li 
said nastily. *WEat about today’s 
news?” 

‘We don’t Eave any, sir,” I 
said, and explained to Eim tEat 
tEe old jokes about EartB were 
true — tEat nobody botEered to 
make new tapes and films because 
tEere were so many old ones, 
and they were all tEat was play- 
ed on tEe 3V. “Beddes, it’s nice 
to know Eow it all came out,” I 
finisEed. 

“Too bad, Andy. Now, on Ve- 
ga, we Eave weafh'er/” 

“Do you Eave seasons, sir?” I 
asked. 

‘We sure do. Growing and 
freezing.” 

I was going to tell Eim about 
EartE’s seasons, but I cEecked 
myself. Would Ee be interested 
in tEe fact tEat EartE used to 
Eave so many seasons? Proba- 
bly not, I decided. 

“I understand EartE used to 
Eave a number of seasons, Andy. 
TEat true?" 

Wrong again. “Yes, Mr. Presi- 
dent. TEere was spring, summer, 
Indian summer, autumn, fall and 
winter.” 

Li was impressed all rigEt. 
V^tfi tEe rollcall of tEe seasons 



18 



GALAXY 




tiiundering in Iu$ ears, Eis tws 
measly seasons went off begging 
for company. He snafcEed up t£e 
BoP’s carrying case and tEe SgE 
silk Eat and burned all tEe way 
up to tEe lobby on tEe top floor. 
He gave tEe clerk Eis tEumbprint 
and told ffim Ee was cEecking 
out. 

“You’re not coming back to 
tEe Eotel, Mr. President?” tEe 
Andyclerk asked disappointedly. 

“I came Eere to find my bride 
and I’m taking Eer Eome to- 
nigEt.” 

Het and who e/se.^ I asked my- 
self. But I could see my luck 
changing. Soon tEe assignment 
would be over, and I wouldn’t 
Eave to keep trying to get along 
witE tEis venomous Vegan. TEe 
BoP kept up a rail of muffled 
complaints all tEe way to tEe an- 
tigrav, because Li, in Eis foul 
mood, bumped tEe carrying case 
with Eis leg every otEer step. 

TEe Empire State Restaurant 
was in tEe E.T. Quarter, on 34tE 
and FiftE Avenue, so I puncEed 
that in and settled back, quiet- 
ly enjojnng tEe effect on Li of 
tEat six-season Eaymaker. 

TEe E.T. Quarter is noted for 
its elegance and subdued noise 
level. TEe equivalent of middle- 
aged couples were creeping, sEtE- 
ering, Eopping and flapping — 
tEe eqmvalent of strolling — 
most of tEem in their equivalent 
of spacesuits, with Rigellian- 

THE VILLAINS FROM VEGA IV 



made cameras. Very nice neigh- 
borhood. 

So when we suddenly got shot 
with a tangle gun and clubbed 
from beSnd, I wasn’t even ready. 

I guess I came to a minute or so 
bdfore Li, who came out of 
it fighting. I yelled at him to stop 
struggling or the tangle would 
get even tighter. TEe tangle, 
which is an anti-riot viviparous 
plant from Aldbaran or there- 
abouts, increases its grip when 
you fight it. I used to carry one 
all the time; now, when I needed 
one, I didn’t Eave it. That’s dip- 
lomatic service for you. 

Of course whoever shot and 
clubbed us wasn’t aroimd any 
more. But the equivalent of mid- 
dle-aged couples were doing the 
equivalent of stroUing around 
and past us. I tried to get them 
to stop and help us, but they all 
looked sk 3 Tward, across the street, 
anywhere, just so they wouldn’t 
see us. An Earthwoman came by 
— smaU, dumpy, in het late 
eighties, I’d say. 

“Young lady,” I called out, 
“we’re caught in this tangleweed. 
See that Ettle bulb? The web will 
retract if you push the tangle’s 
belly-button. Would you push 
it, please?” 

“I don’t know wEat you mean,” 
she said, and walked off. 

A man had paused and Esten- 
ed and was about to leave when 

17 




I said in my best sublevel voli c, 
“I’m a detective on offieiol busi- 
ness. It is your duty as a Human 
eitizen to free/me and tbis gentle- 
man Here, wlio is the President 
of Vega IV. Now move!” 

TKe guy looked very unHappy. 
“I don’t want to get involved.” 
“You won’t be,” I said. Li was 
getting madder and ma<kler, and 
we were botH pretty bimgry. "My 
I.D. is inside my jumper, breast 
pocket, and let’s Eiury up about 
itl” 

He sHoved Eis Hand into my 
jmnper — and tHe tangle grab- 
bed him by one arm. 

“Sorry,” I said. “Now let’s no- 
body move till I figure a way 
out of this mess.” I tHougHt a 
while, till I Had it. “It’s easy,” I 
told them. “Now you’ve got one 
arm free, mister. Keep it clear 
while I put my left leg over your 
right shoulder. Then grab Hold 
of my belt and Haul yourself up, 
and you’ll be in position to pusH 
the tangleweed’s belly-button.” 
So I got out, released Li and 
turned to thank the hmnan, but 
he was running by then and got 
lost in the crowd. 

“Please don’t tell the Commis- 
sioner that I talked to a human 
as if he were an android or ro- 
bot,” I begged Li. 

“And wHat do I tell Hitti about 
you letting us get tangled and 
this knot on the back of my 
head?” 

20 



I gniiinnl Rllcntly. Another 
giiof lllir tliU mid it would bc 
biu'U lo llin old Vat. 

Ill 

Tn tlic Knrlli Room sf the Em- 
pire State Restaurant, only 
one table was occupied- A young 
couple was sitting at it. Li barg- 
ed over to them and asked if 
they minded our joining them. 

The guy looked up at Eim. 
“Well, it was sort of our Honey- 
moon — ” But Li had already 
sat down. I sat down, too, re- 
membering my prime directive: 
not to antagonize Li. 

“Good evening, sir and mad- 
am,” the menurobot in tHe table 
said to us. “Welcome to the 
Earth Room. All EartH protein 
is derived from pant grovnng 
mounds of flesh that once were 
separate and distinct animals. 
We Have beef, lamb and pork 
flavors — excellent today, I 
might add — plus fish and poul- 
try flavors, and all garnished 
with the finest hydroponic vege- 
table purees. Earth has no room 
for food animals, or, for ihat 
matter, vegetation to sustain 
them or us. Even the oceans are 
too crowded with floating and 
underwater cities. We import 
puree enzymes directly from Ve- 
ga IV.” 

“Hear that?” asked Li ami- 
ably. “That’s me — President 

GALAXY 




Robert E. Li of Vega IV. I 
brought in two suitcases of en^ 
zymes, sold them at a fancy 
price, so the treat’s on me. WKat 
will you have?” 

The pair said th'at was awfully 
nice of him and ordered drinks, 
and Li added one for Himself 
and another for me. It was my 
very first. I found I liked the 
taste but not the effect. 

Meanwhile, Li Bad been giving 
a State of tfie Planet Report on 
the Vegan Economy, toucBng 
lightly on the many wonders of 
his Borne planet. “And wBat’s 
your racket?” He asked tfie man. 

“Oddly enough, I’m a Presi- 
dent, too — Canopus VII — and 
I’ve b'rougfit in our most popular 
product: an oil so light that it 
has no surface tension. One drop 
lubricates an entire robot and 
is guaranteed to outlast it.” 
“That good, fiilfi?” said Li. 
“Sounds like just tfie thing we 
need for our reapers and tfiresfi- 
crs. Guaranteed?” 

“Sfieds water like a duck’s 
back.” 

I wondered wHat a duck was, 
but tfiey were praising tfieir 
wares, and asking about a duck 
would infuriate Li — or both of 
tliem. By tfien, anyhow, Li Bad 
gotten around to offering fiis en- 
zymes in exchange for tfie Cano- 
pcon’s oil. 

“But we don’t like pureed veg- 
etables,” tfie guy said. 

THE VILLAINS FROM VEGA IV 



“Well, it has other uses,” said 

Li. 

“Like what?” 

“You’ll find some use for it,” 
Li said. 

Tfiey all ordered, pork for tfie 
men and lamb for tfie lady, and 
waited for me. I ordered tfie fisfi 
flavor. 

“Good,” said Li. “I was afraid 
you were going to say that an- 
droids don’t eat.” 

“Of course we eat, sir,” I said 
to Him. “Tfie only difference be- 
tween us — ” fiis eyebrows went 
up — “are tfie lack of gonads and 
this brand bdiind my left ear 
tfiat saj^ ‘Made in U.S.A.’ ” I 
showed them tfie small brand. 

'^Ke food arrived. Li was talk- 
ing to tfie couple about fiis 
runaway bride, and tfiey were lis- 
tening politely. I let my atten- 
tion wander away from tfie mon- 
ologue. I’d seen hundreds of 
tapes about tfie young girl vntfi 
dramatic aspirations who Bad 
run away from an older Busband 
so she could: A) join a vaude- 
ville act; B) Join tfie circus; C) 
become an ' overnight sensation 
when tfie star of tfie show could 
not or would not go on; D) etc. 
Li’s spluttering brought me back 
to tfie present. 

“Wfio’d want to live Here and 
eat this miserable stuff? Liqui- 
fied vegetables, unbegotten meat 
— and not enough of eitfierl” 

21 




“Tfie fisfi is exceUent, Your 
Excellency,” I said, trying to 
calm him down. “Would you care 
Jo try s<^e?” 

Li took a quarter of my por- 
tion on his fork, jabbed it into 
Eis moutH. He cHewed tfiougHt- 
fully, incredulously, revoltedly; 
but he got it down. 

“Call that fish?” lie yelped. 
“Why, on Vega we wouldn’t even 
feed it to the fisHl” He ate with 
the grimness of an Outworlder 
who had to eat what he’d bagged 
or go hungry. 

We had a lot of alkaloids on 
the rocks and laughed a lot and 
I guess I knew now what being 
stoned is like. However, my sense 
of duty remained sober and I 
kept iirging Li to leave. 

“What for?” he asked merri- 
ly. “You said yourself it was 
only a dull, old, 27th-century 
whodunit” 

“It is, sir. Only I didn’t say it 
was 27tf century.” 

“Well, isn’t it?” 

“Yes, sir. How did you know, 
sir?” 

He swatted me on the back, 
laughing his head off. “Don’t 
look so upset, Andy. It’s prob- 
ably telepathy or just a guess.” 

I thought he was st alling for 
some reason, and he was. 

“I’m not leaving here without 
my desserti” he told the menu- 
robot “It’s included in the din- 
ner and I want it!” 



“Yes, sir or madam. What 
would you like or prune whip?” 
“Prune whip. And don’t tell me 
how you raised it or on what” 
When he finished, we just had 
time to make the last act, hut 
Li had a little trouble putting 
his credit card into the robot’s 
charge slot 

“Plus 20 per cent tip, sir or 
madam,” it said. 

“What?” Li shouted. “Who 
for? I’ll bet you’re not even hu- 
man. I’ll I bet you’re just some 
damned servomechanism.” 

“True, sir or madam, I am.” 
“Then who is the tip for?” 
“General Services, sir or mad-' 
am.” 

“I suppose that’s a bunch of 
robots, too.” 

“No, sir or madam. We are in- 
vestor-owned.” 

“Oh.” Li seemed happy with 
the answer.“Thaf s different Add 
your 20, per cent” 

IV 

W e left the car on the upper 
levels and took the drop to 
the Old Street Level, where the 
theater was, cramped in between 
two tall residential buildings but 
lucky to have survived at all. Li 
bought a bouquet of paper flow- 
ers — there are no real ones any- 
where, of course — from a vend- 
ing machine, and we went around 
to the stage door, where an eld- 



22 



GALAXY 




erly-robot accepted tHem for Miss 
Lyons. 

“Stage door Jolinny, eK?” it 
said in a cracked voice. “Can’t 
wait back Here, young feller.” If 
lifted a metal arm and looked 
at tfie wristwatcH on it. “Play’ll 
be over in 14 minutes.” 

“By Joe,” Li exclaimed as we 
went around to tEe front and 
entered, “tins is more like iti 
Flowers, stage door, a real fEea- 
ter, living actors, even if tEe play 
is an old stinker — ” 

“Gooood even-ing,” tEe ticket 
taker broke in. “Not many peo- 
ple attend tEe legitimate tfieater 
any more since tEe good old days. 
But you vnll be proud to know 
tliat tonigEtis attendance — wItE 
your arrival — Has broken all 
records: tfiere are 71 in tEe audi- 
ence. THat is,” it interrupted it- 
self, “if we can count you, since 
you did not get Here until tEe 
Inst few minutes of tfie play. I 
guess it’s fair,” it decided at last. 
“After all, you did buy tickets 
nnd you are Here. But next time, 
try to be more prompt. TEe cur- 
tnln goes up at 8:30.” 

“I know,” Li said cEeerfully, 
nnd we went in, Li Holding tEe 
lilgli silk Hat and tiie BoP’s carry- 
ing case. 

We made a fearful racket in 
I lie dark, bumping into seats and 
tilings. TEe action on stage stop- 
ped till we sat down in tEe last 
low. Li let tfie BoP out and ex- 



plained to it — and to me, be- 
cause I Had no idea wHat was 
Happening in tHe play — tHat all 
tHe suspects were in tHe room and 
tEe Inspector was summing up 
tEe case. TEe BoP climbed up on 
Li’s sEoulder so it could see. Li 
warned It tiHaf if it Had anytlung 
to say, it Ead better w!£sper or 
He’d put It back in tfie carrying 
case. It nodded, wQcfi surprised 
me. I didn’t know it understood 
tfiat mucE. 

“Now,” tEe Inspector said, as 
soon as we got settled, “we know 
tlus muefi — Mr. Harold HugHes, 
eccentric bilEonaiie, Is dead!” 

“OH, black efia^ of fearful 
evill” wfiispered ffie BoP. I could 
see It was acEmg to let out a 
screecE, but mtfi LI glaring at 
it, it didn’t dare. 

“Furtiiermore,” tfie Inspector 
went on, “exactly one week ago, 
Hugfies took out a most peculiar 
insurance poEcy. Mr. Elmwood, 
your company Issued tfiat policy. 
Suppose you tell us about it.” 

“Well,” said tfie artificially 
padded man (nobody is fat any 
more), “it’s pretty Hard to ex- 
plain.” 

“I’U say,” LI commented. 

“Harold Hu^Ees came to us in 
a very distraugfit way. He said 
He Had a Eorror of drowning in 
tHe Ganges River. Now fie Had 
never been out of New York — ” 
it was a 27tfi-cenfury play, all 
rigEt — “and fie accepted our 



THE VILLAINS FROM VEGA IV 



23 




stipulation that He never would 
as long as He lived. Likewise, we 
put in the usual ban on suicide.” 

<</^ne moment,” said the In- 
specter. “HugEes bought 
that policy, ladies and gentle- 
men, witH His last billion dollars, 
because His fortune was gone, 
squandered, and He was actually 
penniless I” Everybody sort of sat 
or stood around, waiting for Kin^ 
to continue, and He did. “Mr. 
Elmwood, did your company 
psycHolize Hugfies to see if His 
horror of drowning in the Ganges 
River was real?” 

“We did. Inspector. It was very 
real. And so was His determina- 
tion not to leave New York, as 
well as his not contemplating sui- 
cide.” 

“And yet,” said tiie Inspector 
dramatically, “Harold Hughes 
did in fact drown in tHe Ganges 
River — without leaving New 
Yorkl” 

The cast made noises of aston- 
ishment. 

“That’s preposterous 1” ex- 

claimed a tall woman in a blue- 
gray wig. “How could my poor, 
lamented husband drown in the 
Ganges River, which is in India, 
without leaving the city?” 

The Inspector pulled some 
documents from his attache case. 
“I Have here a bill of sale from 
the Ganges Water Company for 
20,000 gallons of Holy H 2 O, a 



bill of lading from the Water 
Buffalo Associates Transport As- 
sociation, a manifest from the 
Hog Island Tramp Freighter, 
and a freight bill from the Pacific 
Fe Railroad — all for carrying 
and delivering said 20,000 gal- 
lons of water of the Ganges River 
to the penthouse apartment of 
one Guru Rabindrinath MakeesH 
' — where the devout of MakeesH’s 
faith may ba^e on appointed 
holy days in the guru’s Pool of 
the Moon — and where Harold 
Hughes was found drowned!” 
“Alack, piteous mortal!” whis- 
pered the BoP. “What craven 
creature did him in?” 

“PsycHolizing isn’t all that per- 
fect,” said a youth lounging on 
a centuries-old couch. “Possibly 
dear old Dad knew about the 
pool and committed suicide be- 
cause he wanted Mothah blamed 
for his death.” 

“Evoe!” breathed the BoP. 
“’Twas then by his awn hand!” 
“If I may say so. Inspector,” 
Elmwood put in, “that theory, 
in the opinion of my insurance 
company. Holds water.” 

The audiance howled and clap- 
ped. Li groaned. 

Elmwood bowed and contin- 
ued. “Mrs. Hughes here was one- 
third beneficiary — and she knew 
it!” 

“Oh, fell and wanton die- 
fiend!” the BoP said in a low tone 
that carried to the stage. I kind 



24 



GALAXY 




of slid down a bit wHen everyone 
in tHe tlieater turned to sbusH 
us, but Li didn’t even notice. He 
was waiting for tHe play to con- 
tinue, but wKy, I couldn’t guess. 

tC^^our company’s desire not 
* to pay up is understand- 
able, Mr. Slmwood,” said tHe In- 
spector sarcastically. “But your 
tKeory is contradicted only by 
tbe facts — namely, tKat Hugfies 
suffered a fractured skull, itom 
behind, and tHat Mrs. HugHes 
Had no motive. SHe Has more 
money tKan HugHes ever owned. 
WHatfs more, sHe loved lum and 
tHey often argued about money, 
sHe offering to Help and He re- 
fusing to Uve off a woman. THat 
rigfit, WutHerington?’’ He said to 
tHe Butler, wHo was dressed like 
tHose extinct penguins you see 
sometimes on 3V. 

“Yes, Inspector. Quite correct. 
THat was tHe subject of tHeir ar- 
guments — mostly.” I could see 
He was going to go on past His 
written lines, but the old fili- 
bustering Inspector jumped in 
without a tHougHt. 

“Just as I suspected,” He said, 
vnggling His forefinger at nobody 
in particular. “Now wKo else ben- 
efits? PerHaps you, Mr. Sm 3 rtHe, 
as HugHes’s lawyer, can tell us?” 

THe Lawyer, standing witH His 
back to tHe fireplace, allowed as 
How tHe Maid was to get a tHird 
of tHe insurance money. 

THE VILLAINS FROM VEGA IV 



“EHEU!” the BoP got out be- 
fore Li clamped a big hand over 
its face. He let go, and it whis- 
pered, “’Tis tHe Maid, wHo Hath 
committed tfiis foul work!” 
“You’re jumping to conclu- 
sions,” Li told tHe BoP. “Wait 
and see. Tfiat’s my wife Hauling 
off to speak, Andy.” 

“I wouldn’t never Have done 
sucH a tHang,” cried tHe Maid in 
a mixture of Cockney, Texas and 
Outworld, “wHat wItH me carry- 
in’ Mr. HugHes’s child and all, 
and ’e promisin’ He He’d divorce 
Mrs. HugHes and do roigHt by 
me and tfie bybyl” 

“Had I but known,” said Mrs. 
HugHes, “I would Have murdered 
Him myself, and not in any dam 
pool, eidierl” 

“Besides,” tHe Maid went on, 
“me and the Mistress, we was to- 
gether on tHat fyfefiil nigHtl” 
THe Lawyer spoke again, after 
a silence during w!QcH nobody 
seemed to know wHaf to do: 
“And the remaining ^ird was to 
go to Guru RabindrinatH Ma- 
keesK, noted yogil” 

“Surely,” breathed tHe BoP, 
“this MakeesH was the messen- 
ger of deatHl” And it made ready 
to take off from Li’s shoulder, 
but Li Held it there. 

“But,” tHe Inspector added 
forcefully, and the BoP settled 
back again, “RabindrinatH Ma- 
keesH is missing — and the com- 
puter says the only RabindrinatH 

25 




Makee&S in the world is in In- 
dia, not New York, and that He 
is only nine years old and defin- 
itely neitHer a guru or a yogi, 
so I guess that lets Him out.” 
“Then who slew my dear, de- 
parted Husband?” cried Mrs. 
Hughes, and the otiBers nodded 
and made inquiring sounds. 

“TKe only one left,” said tfie 
Inspector, “is the least likely sus- 
pect, the person witfi no motive. 
And everybody knows it’s always 
the least likely suspect wHo com- 
mitted the crime!” 

I didn’t think much of that 
kind of logic, but I didn’t say 
anything till Li asked me what 
I bought. “I don’t know who it 
was, but no court would con- 
vict him on that kind of evi- 
dence,” I told him. 

CC'Deholdl” said the Inspector, 
pointing, and the actors all 
turned theatrically toward the 
staircase that went up about 20 
feet and stopped just short of 
the plastic background. A New 
York bobby walked down; he 
must have gone up earlier in 
the play. He was holding a long 
narrow cloth in one Hand and 
a bathrobe and sandals in the 
other. He Handed them to the 
Inspector, who turned abruptly 
to tfie Butler. “These were found 
in your room, Heathecliff WutH- 
erington, alias RabindrinatH Ma- 
keesHl I acctise yeu of disguising 

26 



yourself as Makeesh and Hypno- 
tizing Harold Hughes into tak- 
ing out the insurance policy — 
and striking Him from behind 
and pushing him into the pool 
when he refused to commt sui- 
cide even under Hypnosis!” 

“Yes, yes!” sHouted Wuth'er- 
ington. “I did it! And I’ll tell 
you why I did it!” Before he 
could explain, the BoP shrilled 
out, “Assassin! THe sting of retri- 
bution bites deep!” and it flew 
out over the audience and plant- 
ed itself firmly on Wuthering- 
ton’s head. “THou art Rabindri- 
natH Makeesh, alias Heathecliff 
Wutherington, servant to, and 
slayer of, billionaire Harold 
Hughes!” 

The audience stood up and ap- 
plauded as the curtain came 
down. By that time, both Li and 
I were onstage. 

“No, no!” the actor was say- 
ing to the BoP. “I’m Jack Black, 
playing the parts of Rabindri- 
natH MakeesH and Heathecliff 
WutHerington! I’m an actor. Ask 
anybody — ” 

“Slaughterer!” yelled the BoP. 

“No, look — there’s Bat Durs- 
ton. He played the part of Har- 
old Hughes. See? He isn’t dead!” 

Jack Black was reaching up 
to yank BoP off his head, but 
Li spoke up quickly and authori- 
tatively. “I wouldn’t do that if 
I were you. You’ll kill yourself 
if you succeed, which is very 

GALAXY 




doubtful. It’s rooted into your 
nervous and circulatory systems 
now.” 

“TKen Kow do I get rid of it?” 
wailed Black. 

“You don’t You live symbl- 
otically witK it It’s really very 
good company.” Li turned to th’e 
Maid and Held out His cHeek to 
be kissed, whicH sHe did obedient- 
ly. “Good to see you,” tHey botH 
said. Li gave Black tHe HigH 
silk hat he Had been carrying. 
“Put this on. It covers the BoP 
completely and I Happen to know 
it’s your size.” 

“You do?” Black asked blank- 
ly. “How?” 

“Husband,” said Mrs. Li, “if 
I’d known you Had a plan to 
bring Jack back to Vega IV, I’d 
never have used the tangle gun 
on you.” 

“I didn’t mind tHat so mucH,” 
Li replied, rubbing tHe back of 
his head, whicH reminded me of 
my own lump. “But you might 
Have spared us that antique 
truncheon I told you always to 
carry.” 

CtQo it was youl“ I shouted. 

^ “And you knew about it, 
Mr. President! WKy didn’t you 
tell me?” 

“The subject never came up, 
Andy,” He said. 

“But why?" Black asked a sec- 
ond before I could get the same 
words out “I adnut that I’m a 



very good actor, possibly a great 
one, but — ” 

“I’m afraid it’s impossible to 
go into Vegan mores with so lit- 
tle time. Let’s just say that Lyla 
dutifully kept me informed' on 
sucH tffings as wanting to go on 
the stage, falling in love vntH 
your picture in a magabook in 
a doctor’s office and, of course, 
wanting to marry you.” 

Black smiled radiantly at Her. 
“My dear girl, that’s too, too 
flattering. I’d Have been delight- 
ed to marry you without this — 
this damned BoP and a top Hat. 
Wfiy did I Have to be saddled 
with them?” 

“Well,” said Li, “it seems we 
Have the only surviving copy of 
the Second Folio of Lincoln in 
Illinois, and tHe man wHo’d been 
playing Lincoln all over the Ve- 
gan system died recently. We 
want yo^ to take his place.” 

“Lincoln?” asked Black. “Lin- 
coln wHo?” 

“Abraham Lincoln. A legend- 
ary folk-hero of tHe 18tH or 20tH 
century. He always wore a top 
Hat. If you played Lincoln, no- - 
body would ever know about 
the BoP.” 

“Dasfi it!” Black exclaimed. 
“I’d Have been willing to go to 
Vega IV, marry tHis deligKtful 
child and act in srour old play 
without such devious schemes!” 

“At a thousand dollars a 
week?” 



THE VILLAINS FROM VEGA IV 



27 




Black stiffened. He was very 
good at it “Absolutely not Lyla 
and BoP or no Lyla and BoP! 
People Haven’t earned tEat little 
sance tfie Second or THird World 
War.” 

I spoke up a bit reluctantly. 
“President Li Has tKougHt tHis 
all tfie way tKrougK, Mr. Black. 
TKaf s wKy He needed an Andy- 
tec — to Hold you for deporta- 
tion as a Vegan criminal in case 
you rejected His offer.” 

“But How can I be a Vegan 
criminal wHen I’ve never been to 
Vega IV?” 

“You’re wearing a BoP. THat 
makes you a Vegan criminal. 
SHall I arrest him, Mr. Presi- 
dent?” 

“Let’s try friendly persuasion 
first, Andy.” He looked at tKe 
actor, wKo didn’t know wHicH He 
sHould be more, frightened or up- 
set. “How mucK do you make 
here. Black?” 

“The company gets a ten-mil- 
lion-a-year grant from the Gen- 
eral Foundation. I take the first 
million. The rest goes for cast, 
crew and theater.” 

“And wHat are your expenses?” 

Black didn’t think it was any 
of Li’s business, but admitted 
under grilling to a quarter of a 
million for rent, food about an- 
other quarter million, whicH is 
about right if He doesn’t eat out 
too often, another quarter million 
for clothing, Haircuts, antigrav 



cabs, trips and so forth and, si 
course, taxes, about anotSer 
quarter of a million. 

ttTT^ell, on Vega IV,” said I4< 
» ’ “it would only cottf 
you 10 per c^t for payment^ 
on a House as big as you 
like. 20 per cent for food, 
10 per cent for taxes — and 
you’d own your own House and 
antigrav car after only ten years, 
not to mention your own flower 
and vegetable gardens — and a 
robot to come in three times a 
week to clean.” 

It sounded like the paradise 
Li Had been claiming it was. I 
almost wished I could go with 
them. I might Have, too, if an- 
droids were allowed to travel 
and own property. 

Black finished out How mudQ 
all that came to. “I don’t beHevn 
it! Are you telling me tHat I 
would Have money left over?” 
“Yes. And you can do anything 
you like witK it.” 

“THat,” said Black, “tahea 
care of tHat!” 

Mrs. Li let out a Happy squeal 
“Then you’ll go back with us 
and marry me?” 

“THat kind of depends on you, 
doesn’t it?” Black said to 
“Would you be willing to give 
her a divorce?” 

“WKy, no divorce is neces- 
sary,” said Li expansively. “Lyla 
Has to marry once more, at 36, 



THE VILLAINS FROM VEGA IV 



29 




to an 18-year-old-boy — but you 
can get togetHer wKen sKe’s 54.” 
"Will you still want me tBen?” 
Mrs. Li wanted to know. 

“You’ll^ be even more desirable 
at 54 tKan you are now,” Black 
told Her. SHe lit up like an un- 
occupied antigrav cab. TEat sure 
was a good line to remember. 

I turned to tbe President of 
Vega IV. “TEe BoP, tEe EigH 
silk Eat, reservations for tEree 
on tEe midnigEt fligEt — it all 
worked out tEe way you figured.” 
“I never doubted it for a mo- 
ment” He sEook my Hand — 
tEe first time a Human ever sEook 
Hands witE mel "Excuse us if we 
seem to be running out, Andy. 
We just Have time to catcH the 
sEip.” 

V 

B ack at Precinct, I asked 
wEatis-Eer-name at tEe 
switcEboard; “Will you marry 
me wEen you’re 54?” 

“Are you out of your mind?” 
sEe said. “Androids don’t marry.” 
“You will be even more desir- 
able at 54 tBan you are now,” I 
told Her, witH a flourisH of tEe 
«m, tEe way Black Had done 
it 

“You’re dam rigEt I’m B3. 
Now knock it off; tHe Coinmis- 
poner wants to see you as soon 
as you come in, wHicH is rigEt 
now.” 



SEaking, I pushed the one- 
way-screen button and went in 
wHen tHe door opened. TEe Com- 
missioner was on tEe yisipEone. 
WHo witH? Li Himself, rigEt tEere 
on tEe visiscreeni His bps were 
moving, but tHe Commissioner 
was on tEe privacy key, and I 
suddenly regretted not knowing 
Eow to read bps. On tEe otHer 
Hand, I tEougHt, it was better 
not to know. WEat particular 
goofs of mine was Li complain-^ 
ing about? Witfiout even searcH- 
ing my mind, I could name a 
dozen or more. 

TEe Commissioner got in a 
few uE-HuEs and a tEank you 
and switcEed off. He swiveled 
around me. “TEat was President 
Li,” He told me unnecessarily. 

Li woxild Have said, “I know,” 
but aU I could manage was a 
weak yes, “Yes, Commissioner?’’ 
I waited to be consigned to tEe 
old Vat. 

“He says — are you ready, 
Andy?” I nodded my dry-moutH- 
ed Head. “He says you were very 
efficient, capable and tactful 1” 

“Me?” I almost gasped, but 
didn’t. I nodded again instead. 

“I’ve Had my eye on you for 
some time, Andy, and President 
Li’s cab merely confirms it. I 
tEink you’re AndypHilo materi- 
al! A few more of tHese diplo- 
niatic assignments, and I’U put 
^irougH your promotion. You 
know wEat tEat means, eE?” 



30 



GALAXY 




You can bet your sweet proto- 
plasm I did! Tired as I was, I 
lit up every bit a^ brigKtly as 
Mrs. Li Had, especially wHen tHe 
Commissioner sHook Hands witH 
me, making it twice in one day, 
and walked me to tHe door! 

I tSuinbed open my sleep-clos- 
et. Humming to m3rself, some- 
tHing I don’t ever remember do- 



ing before, I leaned back against 
my tiltboard and strapped jny;- 
self in. 

If I made AndypHile, do you^ 
know wHat I would rate? A hori- 
zontal sleep-closet! Complete 
witH airform bed! 

Vega IV — HaH! EartH is tfie 
only place for androids! 

— E. J. & H. L. GOLD 



★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 

FORECAST 

Four months ago we ran two ful!-page ads in Galaxy, both rather unusua! 
in that they were paid for by our contributors. One was a list of science- 
fiction writers who wanted the United States to get out of Vietnam; the 
other, a list, nearly as long, of equally celebrated sf writers who wanted 
us to stay there. 

What struck us about these two lists is that we know nearly everyone who 
signed both advertisements and feel sure that both camps are as one in 
their view of what a proper human world should be like. It is not ultimate 
goals that divide them, but essentially a difference in tactics. And so we 
took the money that the writers paid to have their opinions pubtished and 
used it to establish a fund for five $100 prizes for the best suggestions 
anyone — reader, writer or whatever — had to offer on what to do about 
Vietnam. 

Next month we'il be reporting the winners of those prizes. More than 
that, we'll be telling you about what we plan to do next. For the choice of 
tactics is not really an arcane mystery, knowable only to God. Achieving 
the kind of world nearly all of us want is basically only one more problem 
among many, and we think it can be solved through the application of 
technological problem-solving techniques similar to those used in science and 
government today. And we're going to try . . . and we'll be keeping you 
posted on how it all works out, starting next month. 

Stories? Oh, to be sure there will be stories as well! Gordon R. Dickson 
Is back next month; so is Robert Silverberg. John Wyndham, whose Day of 
the Triffids is one of science-fiction's al! time best-sellers, will be also 
be present if space permits — plus enough others, we think, to make it 
a really good issue even without the report on the Vietnam problem-selving 
study. But we think you'll be specially interested in that; we are! 

THE V!LLAINS FROM VEGA IV 



31 





Grossfuiio found an inttnSy of po> 
sibh nows. Each of them was real} 
and all of them were — meaningless! 



^^Eere were timelines brancE- 
ing and brancEing, a mega-' 
universe of universes, milEons 
more every minute. BUEons? 
TrilEons? Trimble didn’t under- 
stand tEe tEeory^ tEougE God 
knows Ee’d tried. TEe universe 
spEt jeveiy time someone made a 
decision. SpEt, so tEat every de- 
rision ever made could go botE 
ways, Bvery cEoice made by ev- 
ery man, woman land c^d on 
Ea^ was reversed in iU5e uni- 
verse next door. It was enougE 
to confuse any citizen, let alone 

32 



Detective-Lieutenant Gene Trim- 
ble, wEo Ead otEer problems to 
worry about. 

Senseless suicide, senseless 
crime. A city-wide epidemic. It 
Ead Eit otBer cities too. Trimble 
suspected tEat it was world wide, 
tEat otEer nations were simply 
keeping it quiet. 

Trimble’s sad eyes focused on 
tfie clock. Quitting time. He 
stood up to go Eome and slowly 
sat down again. For Ee Ead bis 
teetE in tfie problem, and be 
couldn’t let go. 







Not that He was really accom- 
plishing anytHing. 

But if He left now, He’d only 
Have to take it up again tomor- 
row. 

Go, or stay? 

And tHe brancHings began 
again. Gene Trimble thought of 
other universes parallel to this 
one, and a parallel Gene Trim- 
ble in each one. Some Had left 
early. Many had left on time, and 
were now halfway home to din- 
ner, out to a movie, watching a 
strip show, racing to the scene 
of another death. Streaming out 
of police headquarters in all their 
multitudes, leaving a multitude 
of Trimbles behind them. Each of 
these trying to deal, alone, with 
the city’s endless, inexplicable 
parade of suicides. 

Gene Trimble spread the morn- 
ing paper on His desk. From the 
bottom drawer he took his gim- 
cleaning equipment, then His .45. 
He began to take the gun apart. 

THe gun was old but service- 
able. He’d never fired it except on 
the target range and never ex- 
pected to. To Trimble, cleaning 
his gim was like knitting, a way 
to keep his hands busy while His 
mind wandered off. Turn the 
screws, don’t lose them. Lay the 
parts out in order. 

Through the closed door to His 
office came the sounds of men 
Hurrying. Another emergency? 
The department couldn’t Handle 



it all. Too many suicides, too 
many casual murders, not enough 
men. 

Gun oil. Oiled rag. Wipe caoh 
part. Put it back in place. 

Why would a man like Am-^ 
brose Hardesty go off a build- 
ing? 

Tn the early morning light he 
lay, more a stain than a 
man, thirty-six stories below die 
edge of his own penthouse roof. 
The pavement was splatterod red 
for yards around him. The stains 
were still wet. Harmon had land- 
ed on his face. He wore a bri^t 
silk dressing gown and a sleep- 
ing jacket with a sasH. 

Others would take samples of 
his blood, to learn if He Had act- 
ed under the influence of alco- 
hol or drugs. There was little to 
be learned from seeing him in 
his present condition. 

“But why was he up so earfy?” 
Trimble wondered. For the call 
had come in at 8:03, just as 
Trimble arrived at headquarters. 

“So late, you mean.” Bendey 
.had beaten him to the scene by 
twenty minutes. “We called some 
of his friends. He was at an all- 
night poker game. Broke up 
around six oclock.” 

“Did Harmon lose?” 

“Nope. He won almost five 
hundred bucks.” 

“That fits,” Trimble said in 
disgust. “No suicide note?” 



ALL THE MYRIAD WAYS 



33 




“Maybe tKe5r’ve found one. 
SHall we go up and see?” 

“We won’t find a note,” Trim- 
ble predicted. 

Even three months earlier 
Trimble would Have thbught, 
How incrediblel or WHo could 
have pushed Him? Now, riding 
up in the elevator, He thought 
only. Reporters. For Ambrose 
Harmon was news. Even among 
this past year’s epidemic of 
suicides, Ambrose Harmon’s 
death would stand out like Lyn- 
don Johnson in a lineup. 

He was a prominent member 
of the community, a man of dead 
and wealthy grandparents. Per- 
haps the huge inheritance, four 
years ago, Had gone to his head. 
He had invested tremendous 
gums to back hairbrained quix- 
otic causes. 

Now, because one of the hair- 
grained causes had paid off, he 
iwas richer than ever. The Cross- 
time Corporation already held a 
score of patents on inventions im- 
ported from alternate time tracks. 
lAlready those inventions had 
started more than one industrial 
revolution. And Harmon was 
the money behind Crosstime. He 
would have been the world’s next 
billionaire — had he not walked 
off ^e balcony. 

^^hey found a roomy, luxuri- 
ously furnished apartment in 
good order, and a bed turned 

34 



down for the night The only 
sign of disorder was Hardesty’s 
clothing — slacks, sweater, a silk 
turtleneck shirt, knee-length 
^oesocks, no underwear — piled 
on a chair in the bedroom. The 
toothbrush had been used. 

He got ready for bed, Trim- 
ble thought He brushed his 
teeth, and then he went out to 
look at the sunrise. A man who 
kept late hours like that he 
wouldn’t see the sunrise very 
often. He watched the sunrise, 
and when it was over, he jumped. 

“Why? 

They were all like that Easy, 
spontaneous decisions. The vic- 
tim-killers walked off bridges or 
stepped from their balconies or 
suddenly flung themselves in 
front of subway trains. They 
strolled halfway across a free- 
way, or swallowed a full bottle 
of laudenaum. None of the meth- 
ods showed previous planning. 
Whatever was used, the victim 
had had it all along; he nevec 
actually went out and bought a 
suicide weapon. The victim rare- 
ly dressed for the occasion, or 
used makeup, as an ordinary sui- 
cide would. Usually there was no 
note. 

Harmon fit the pattern per- 
fectly. 

‘Xike Richard Corey,” said 
Bentley. 

“Who?” 

“Richard Corey, the man who 
GALAXY 




had everything. 'And Richard 
Corey, one calsc( sunomer night, 
Went Home and put a bullet 
tHrougH ins Head.’ You know 
wHat I think?" 

“If you’ve got an idea, let’s 
Have it.” 

“THe suicides all started about 
a month after Crosstune got 
\ started. I tlSnk one of the Cross- 
time ships brought back a new 
bug from some alternate time- 
line.” 

“A suicide bug?” 

Bentley nodded. 

“You’re out of your mind.” 

“I don’t think so. Gene, do 
you know how many Crosstime 
pilots have killed themselves in 
the last year? More than twenty 
percent!” 

“OH?” 

“Look at the records. Cross- 
time has about twenty velucles 
in action now, but In the past 
year they’ve employed sixty-two 
pilots. Three disappeared. Fif- 
teen are dead, and all but two 
died by suicide.” 

“I didn’t know that.” Trimble 
was shaken. 

“It was bound to happen some- 
time. Look at the alternate 
worlds they’ve found so far. THe 
Nazi world. The Red Chinese 
world, half bombed to death. THe 
ones that are totally bombed, 
and Crosstime can’t even find out 
who did it. The one with the 
Black Plague mutation, and no 



penicillin until Crosstime came 
along. Sooner or later — ” 
“Maybe, maybe. I don’t buy 
your bug, though. If the suicides 
are a new kind of plague, what 
about the other crimes?” 

“Same bug.” 

“UH, uK. But I think we’ll 
check up on Crosstime.” 

^T^rimble’s Hands finished with 
the gun and laid it on the 
desk. He was hardly aware of 
it. Somewhere in the back of his 
mind was a prodding sensations 
the Handle, tfe piece he need- 
ed to solve the puzzle. 

He spent most of the day 
studjnng Crosstime, Inc. News 
stories, official Handouts, person- 
al interviews. The incredible sui- 
cide rate among Crosstime pi- 
lots could not be coincidence. He 
wondered why nobody Had no- 
ticed it before. 

It was slow going. With Cross- 
time travel, as with relativity, you 
had to throw away reason and 
use only logic. Trimble had 
sweated it out. Even the day’s 
murders Had not distracted him. 

They were typical, of a piece 
with the preceding eight months’ 
crime wave. A man had shot His 
foreman with a gun bought an 
hour earlier, then strolled off to- 
ward police headquarters. A 
woman Had moved through' the 
back row of a dark theater, us- 
ing an ice pick to stab members 

35 



ALL THE MYRIAD WAYS 




of tHe audience through the 
backs of their seats. She bad 
cfiosen only young men. They 
bad killed without heat, without 
concealment^ they Had surren- 
dered without fear or bravado. 
Perhaps it was another kind of 
suicide. 

Time for coffee, Trimble 
thought, responding uncon^ou$- 
ly to a dry throat plus a fuzzi- 
ness of the moutb plus slight fa- 
tigue. He set ffis hands to stand 
up, and — 

The image came to him in an 
endless row of Trimbles, lined 
up like the repeated images in 
facing mirrors. But each image 
was slightly different. He would 
go get the coffee and he wouldn’t 
and he would send somebody for 
it, and someone was about to 
bring it without being asked. 
Some of the images were drink- 
ing coffee, a few had tea or milk, 
some were smoking, some were 
leaning too far back with their 
feet on the desks (and a handful 
of these were toppling helplessly 
backward), some were, like this 
present Trimble, introspecting 
with their elbows on the desk. 
Damn Crosstime anyway. 

He’d have had to check Har- 
mon’s business affairs, even with- 
out the Crosstime link. There 
might have been a motive there, 
for suicide or murder, though it 
Had never been likely. 

In the first place, Harmon had 

36 



cared nothing for mon^. The 
Crosstime group Had been one «f 
many. At the time that ponject 
had looked as hairbrained as tiie 
rest: a handful of en^neers and 
physic^ and philospp&en de- 
termined to prove the the- 
ory of alternate time tracks was 
reality. 

In the second place, Hardesty 
had no business worries. 

Quite the contrary. 

Eleven months ago an experin 
mental vdBcle had touched one 
of the world’s of the Confederate 
States of America and returned. 
The universes of alternate choice 
were wi^in reach. And the pilot 
had brought back an artifact. 

From that point on. Crosstime 
travel had more than financed it- 
self. The Confederate world’s 
"stapler,” granted an immediate 
patent, had bou^t two more 
^ps. A dozen miracles had or- 
iginated in a single, technolog- 
ically advanced timeline, one in 
wEidI the catastrophic Cuba War 
had been no more than a wet 
firecracker. Lasers, oxygen-hy- 
drogen rocket motors, computers, 
strange plastics — the list was 
still growing. And Crosstime 
held all the patents. 

I n those first months the ve- 
hicles had gone off practical- 
ly at random. Now the pinpoint- 
ing was better. V^cles could 
select any branch they prefer- 

GALAXY 




red. Imperial Russia, Amerindi- 
an America, tfie CatHolic Empire, 
tSe dead worlds. Some of tGe 
dead worlds were Hells of radio- 
active dust and intact but dead- 
ly artifacts. From tHese worlds 
Crosstime pilots brought strange 
and beautiful works of art wHicH 
Had to be stored behind leaded 
glass. 

The latest vehicles could reacH 
worlds so like this one that it 
took a week of research to find 
the difference. In theory they 
could get even closer. There was 
a phenomenon called ‘the broad- 
ening of the bands’ . . . 

And that had given Trimble 
the shivers. 

When a vehicle left its own 
present, a signal went on in the 
hangar, a signal imique to that 
$Hip. When the pilot wanted to 
return, he simply cruised across 
the appropriate band of proba- 
bilities until He found the signal. 
The signal marked his own 
unique present. 

Only it didn’t. The pilot al- 
ways returned to find a clump 
of signals, a broadened band. 
The longer he stayed away, the 
broader was the signal band. His 
own world Had continued to di- 
vide after his departure, in a 
constant stream of decisions be- 
ing made both ways. 

Usually it didn’t matter. Any 
signal the pilot chose represent- 
ed the world he had left. And 



since the pilot himself had a 
choice, he naturally returned to 
them all. But — 

There was a pilot by the name 
of Gary Wilcox. He Had been 
using his vehicle for experiments, 
to see how close he could get to 
his own timeline and still leave 
it. Once, last month. He had re- 
turned twice. 

Two Gary Wilcoxes, two ve- 
hicles. The velucles Had been 
wrecked — their hulls intersect- 
ed. For the Wilcoxes it could 
have been sticky, for Wilcox had 
a wife and family. But one of the 
duplicates Had chosen to die al- 
most immediately. 

Trimble Had tried to call the 
other Gary Wilcox. He was too 
late. Wilcox Had gone skydiving 
a week ago. He’d neglected to 
open his parachute. 

Small wonder, thought Trim- 
ble. At least Wilcox had had mo- 
tive. It was bad enoi^h, knowing 
about the other Tumbles, the 
ones who had gone Hbme, the 
ones drinking coffee, et cetra. But 
— suppose someone walked into 
the offiice right now, and it was 
Gene Trimble? 

It could happen. 

Convinced as he was that 
Crosstime was involved in the 
suicides, Trimble — some other 
Trimble — might easily have de- 
cided to take a trip in a Cross- 
time vehicle. A short trip. He 
could land Here. 



ALL THE MYRIAD WAYS 



37 




f I 'rimble closed his eyes and 
rubbed at tfie comers witB 
His fingertips. In some timeline, 
very close, someone Had tfiougEt 
to bring lum coffee. Too bad 
tHis wasn’t( it. 

It didn’t do to t£ink too mucQ 
about tiiese alternate timelines. 
THere were too many of tSem. 
THe close one$ could drive you 
buggy, but tBe ones furtEer off 
were just as bad. 

Take tSe Cuba War. Atomics 
Had been used. Here and now 
Cuba was unInEabited, and some 
American cities were gone, and 
some Rusrian. It could Have 
been worse. 

WEy wasn’t it? How could we 
luck out? Intelligent statesmen? 
Faulty bombs? A Humane re- 
luctance to kill indiscriminately? 

No. TEere was no luck any- 
wHere. Every decision was made 
botfi wasrs. For every wise cEoice 
you bled your Heart out over, 
you Had made ell tHe otEer 
cHoices too. And so it went, all 
tHrougE Qstory. 

Civil wars unfougHt on some 
worlds were won by ddier side 
on otBers. ElsewHen, anotHer an- 
imal Had first done murder witH 
an antelope femur. Some worlds 
were still all nomad; civiliza- 
tion Had lost out If every cHoice 
was cancelled elsewHerei wHy 
make a decision at all? 

Trimble opened His eyes and 
saw tHe gun. 



Tfiat gun, too, was endl^ly 
repeated on endl^ de;^ Some 
of lEe Images were ditty wi^ 
years of neglect Some smelled 
of gunpowder, fired lecentlyj a 
few at living targets. Some were 
loaded. All were as real as tfiis 
one. 

A number of tHese were about 
to go off by accident 

A proportion of tEese were 
pointed, in deadly coincidence, 
at Gene Trimble. 

See tfie endless rows of Gene 
Trimble, eacH at His desk. Some 
are bleeding and cursing as meu 
run into tfie room following tHe 
sound of tfie gunsfiot Many are 
already dead. 

Was tfiere a bullet in tHere? 
Nonsense. 

He looked anyway. THe gun 
was empty. 

Trimble loaded it At tfie base 
of His mind fie felt tfie toucE of 
tHe handle. He would find wEat 
He was seeking. 

He put tfie gun back on Hs 
desk, pointing away from !Sm, 
and fie tfiougfit of Ambrose Har- 
mon, coming Home from a late 
nigfit. Ambrose Harmon, wEb 
Had won five Hundred dollars at 
poker. Ambrose Harmon, ex- 
hausted, seeing tfie listening 
sky as He prepared for bed. Go* 
ing out to watcfi tHe dawDu 

Ambrose Harmon, watcSng 
tfie slow dawn, remembering a 
two thousand dollar pot He’d 



38 



GALAXY 




bluffed. In some otKer branching 
of time. He Had lost. 

Thinking that in some o^er 
brancEng of time, that two thou- 
sand dollars included Es last 
dime. It was certainly possible. 
If Crosstime hadn’t paid off, he 
might Have gone tEougH the re- 
mains of his fortune in the past 
four years. He liked to gamble. 

Watching the dawn, thinking 
of all the Ambrose Harmons on 
that roof. Some were penniless 
this night, and they had not 
come out to watch the dawn. 

Well, why not? If He stepped 
over the edge, here and now, an- 
other Ambrose Harmon would 
oEy laugh and go inside. 

If he laughed and went inside, 
other Ambrose Harmons would 
fall to their deaths. Some were 
already on their way down. One 
changed Es mind too late, an- 
other laughed as he fell . . . 

Well, why not? . . . 

^^rimble thought of another 
man, a nonentity, passing a 
firearms store. BrancEng of 
timelines, he thinks, looking in, 
and he thinks of the man who 
took Es foreman’s job. Well, 
why not? . . . 

Trimble thought of a lonely 
woman maEng herself a drink at 
three m the afternoon. She fhinlfg 
of myriads of alter egos, with hus- 
bands, lovers, children, friends. 
Unbearable, to think that all the 



might-have-beens were as tieal 
as herself. As real as tEs ice p!^ 
in her hand. Well, why not? . . . 

And she goes out to a movie, 
but she takes the ice pick. 

And the honest citizen with a 
carefEly submerged urge to com- 
imt rape, just once. Reading his 
newspaper at breakfast, and 
there’s another story from Cross- 
time: thejr’ve found a world line 
in wEch Kennedy the First was 
assassinated. Strolling down a 
street, he thinks of world lines 
and infmite brancEngs, of alter 
egos already dead, or jailed, or 
President. A girl m a mimskirt 
passes, and she has Ece legs. 
Well, why not? . . . 

Casual murder, casual smcide, 
casual crime. Why not? If alter- 
nate umverses are a reality, then 
cause and effect are an illusion. 
The law of averages is a fraud. 
You can do anything, and one 
of you will, or did. 

Gene Trimble looked at the 
clean and loaded gun on Es desk. 
Well, why not? . . . 

And he ran out of the office 
shouting, “Bentley, listen. I’ve 
got the answer ...” 

And He stood up slowly and 
left the office shaking his head. 
This was the answer, and it 
wasn’t any good. The smcides, 
mtirders, casual crimes would 
continue . . . 

And he suddenly laughed and 
stood up. RidicEousI Nobody 



ALL THE MYRIAD WAYS 



39 




dies for a philosophical point! . . . newspapers, put it to fils Bead 
And Ee reached for the inter- and 
com and told the man who an- fired. The Hammer fell on an 
swered to bring Him a sandwich empty chamber, 
and some co^ee . . . fired. >THe gun jerked and 

And picked tHe gun off the blasted a hole in the ceiling, 
newspapers, looked at it for a fired. THe bullet tore a furrow 
long moment, then dropped it in in IBs scalp, 
the drawer. Ifis Hands began to fired. The bullet took off the 
shake. On a world line very close top of His Head, 
to this one . . , 

And He picked tHe gun off tHe —LARRY NIVEN 



At Your Newsstand Now ! 

WORLDS OF FANTASY 

For lAe bed In aduH fantasy — 
and ffte fcesf in iwords-ond-somiy. 

MIRROR OF WIZARDRY 

by John Jafcu 

DELENDA EST 

by Robert E Howard 

AS IF 

ky Rcbert Silverberg 

plus L Sprague de Camp, Lin Carter, 

Mack Reynolds, J. R. R. Tolkien — and 
other great fantasy writers. 



40 



GALAXY 







by KRIS NEVILLE 
Illustrated by 

Here we were on Thyre Planet, 
wondering where everyone had 
gone — until they all came back ! 



I 

■O eginald Bellflower looked out 
tlie window of tlie sfiuttle 
ship as it skimmed deeper into 
tlie atmospHere of TGyre Planet. 
At last, below, lie could see one 
of tHe alien cities. Judging from 
tlie constructions, one migGt 
imagine tKe vanisHed alien race 
in no way different from eartH- 
incn except for language. Down 



to details in living accommoda- 
tions, including toilet facilities, 
tKe cities, of THyre Planet were 
built for Human occupation. 

Bellflower, 45, was an admin- 
istrator. For more years tKan 
anyone would care to believe, He 
Gad attended evening classes in 
various centers which’ specialized 
in producing tlie executive per- 
sonality always in such short 
supply in industry. As a result 



41 




of tHis schooling, his long-prac- 
ticed smile of sincerity inspired 
immedate confidence; Eis dress 
was exactly proper for every 
occasion, social and business; 
and His comj^sure could not be 
shaken by any conceivable cor- 
porate disaster. He knew every 
technique and reference source to 
use in determining tKe actual re- 
quirements of any potential em- 
ployer. He knew the tfiree best 
companies to hire for resume 
writing. He knew How to respond 
without Hesitation to all possi- 
ble job-placement-interview ques- 
tions. And, of course. He was tKor- 
oughly proficient in working ev- 
ery psychological and intelli- 
gence test known to man. His 
stern credo: Hire tKe best people 
available and pay whatever you 
have to to get them. , 

Bellflower was now confront- 
ed with the most challenging job 
of his career: General Director of 
the Scientific Task Force to 
Solve the Thyre Planet Trans- 
portation Problem. 

The shuttle, in due time, land- 
ed. Bellflower watched the oth- 
er passengers, all homesteaders 
doubtless, disembark. When tKe 
last man was at the doorway, 
Bellflower arose and gathered up 
his belongings at leisure. He 
walked through the empty cab- 
in to the exit, stepped out and 
calmly looked around for tiie 
welcoming party, already Half- 

42 



fragmented in confusion: think- 
ing He Had missed tHe flight. 

^^Ee mayor. Hand outstretched, 
bounced up tKe stairs toward 
Him. “Wdcome to Aloseni, Mr. 
Bellflower!” cried the mayor. 

"Mayor Baile?” said Bellflow- 
er, taking the Hand in a firm, 
dry grip, making tKe smile, hold- 
ing it just long enough to pro- 
duce the desired effect, letting 
it go in recognition of tKe gravity 
of tKe situation on THyre Plan- 
et. “I Have been looking forward 
to working with you and your 
people.” 

At tHe bottom of the boarding 
ramp. Bellflower repeated the 
performance for tfie otKer digni- 
taries. He placed Bmself com- 
pletely at their disposal, sKowing 
no impatience, no desire to de- 
part. At length an embarrassed 
silence fell. Formahties Had been 
concluded. None seemed willing 
to take the next step, perhaps 
for fear of offending their guest 
wEo was obviously quietly enjoy- 
ing tKe welcoming activity. 

Bellflower said into the si- 
lence, “I guess it’s time to go to 
work.” 

Instantly, obeying Bellflower’s 
suggestion. Mayor, Baile said, 
"We’ll go into my office and 
go over the rituation right now, 
if you’re not too tired from the 
trip.” 

Bellflower bent to Eis suitcases. 

GALAXY 




“Let’s Have tHese sent over to my 
Hotel.” Someone came forward to 
relieve Him of tEem. “Very well, 
Mayor Baile. Gentleman, tfiank 
you all for coming out. We’ll 
be working closely togetKer.” 

THe mayor started away. Bell- 
flower following. 

An instant of sKock and terror 
enveloped tHe general director of 
STFSTPTP then. THe mayor 
was calmly walking toward wHat 
must be a Transportation BootH. 
Bellflower desperately surveyed 
the newly built spaceport No 
ground cars were in evidence! 

This development brought 
perspiration to Bellflower’s skin. 
A man could damned well get 
killed in one of tKose Transpor- 
tation Booths. Was He expected 
to use them, too? 

But of course you are, logic 
told him for tHe first time. 

When the mayor opened the 
door of the Transportation 
BootH, Bellflower drew back in- 
stinctively. The mayor said, “Ev- 
eryone is a little uneasy the first 
few trips. Eventually, after a 
week or two, you get used to it. 
THe fatality rate is only point 
oH-oH-oH, oh-oh-oh two five of 
one percent.” 

"Dellflower quickly rephrased 
the statistic to a mathema- 
tical aptitude test question. Giv- 
en that the present population of 
Thyre Planet is one billion and 



the year (as on Mother earth) 
contains 365 days. By postulat- 
ing an average travd rate per 
person of 3000 trips a year. Bell- 
flower was readily able to calcu- 
late a fatality rate of approxi- 
mately 20 per day . . . assuming 
he had the decimal right. Each 
day he stayed on Thyre Planet, 
he faced one chance out of 50 
million of being killed by the 
transportation system. 

He stepped into the booth, his 
terror slowly departing. It was 
wildly improbable that he would 
be killed. Somebody else would 
be. It would take tfe Transpor- 
tation Booths over 100,000 years 
to kill him. 

“Now, here’s the way you work 
it,” said the mayor. “You dial 
your number, in this case, my 
office. . . . Then you pull this 
lever. ...” The outside world 
became opaque, and the two men 
were isolated. “Now,” continued 
the mayor, “you wait for this 
light to flash, which indicates 
your office is ready to receive 
you. For God’s sake always wait 
for the light to flash; you’ll be 
killed every time otherwise. Now, 
see it flash? Now you push this 
button.” 

As he listened to the instruc- 
tions, Bellflower watched the 
mayor of Aloseni. In the logical 
part of his mind. He thought that 
there were entirely too many op- 
erations involved, and that with 



THYRE PLANET 



43 




proper redesign tHere seemed no 
reason not to eliminate at least 
two of tliem. 

WEen ttie mayor pusBed tBe 
button, blood spurted from tBe 
side of Bis Bead. 

“Good Gqdl” cried Bellflower. 
“Your earl” 

Stunned, tBe mayor put a Band 
to Bis Bead. “My ear is tom 
offl” Be cried. “Jesusl It tivats! 
Don’t stand tBere! Get tBe damn- 
ed first-aid kiti Get tBe doctor 
in Berel It’s Eurting like Belli” 

Bellflower saw for tBe first time 
tBat tEey were in a different 
Transportation BootE. He could 
tell because tBe opacity was gone 
and beyond tBe glass door was 
an office. Bellflower slammed 
tbrougH tBe door crying, “Get 
a doctorl Mayor Baile is Eurtl” 

TBe room filled almost imme- 
diately witB employees. First aid 
was given. WitBin tBree minutes 
a doctor stepped out of tBe 
Transportation BootB and took 
charge. He inspected tBe mayor 
quicky before rendering a ver- 
dict. “You’re going to be all 
rigBt. You’ve just lost an ear is 
all. We’ll get you right over to 
tBe Bospital.” 

“Thank God it wasn’t any 
worse,” said the mayor. 

Bellflower stood helplessly to 
one side, watching the mayor 
and the doctor depart by means 
of the Transportation Booth. He 
faced a horrible sinking sensa- 

44 



tion that came when Be realized 
that he was going to have to 
step back into that little booth 
to get to his motel. 

II 

TT^ithin a week, BeUflowerwas 
^ ^ situated in Bis offices. 
TBe general director’s suite seem- 
ed not to accord completely vuth 
Bis job responsibilities, but for. 
the first few months, during pro- 
gram bmldup. Be would make 
do. In seven days, the unfamili- 
arity of the alien city vanished 
into Bis subconscious to trouble 
him only in vague dreams of the 
classic insecurity type. He was 
assured these, too, would pass. 
The strange and contradictory 
color combinations, the texture 
of the wood, the Band of tBe syn- 
thetics, the unfamiliar odors, tBe 
unusual ta'stes Bad blended into 
the natural environment. 

He reviewed his presentation 
for Colonel Ramsey, head of the 
Thyre Planet Citizens’ Commit- 
tee for Public Transi)ortatiom 
This blue-ribbon committee, ap- 
pointed by the prerident of 
Thyre Planet to develop the 
.scientific team to solve the trans- 
portation problem, was as near« 
at the moment, to an employer 
as Bellflower Bad. 

Colonel Ramsey stepped out 
of the Transportation Booth ex- 
actly at the appointed hour. The 

GALAXY 




clear- circmt signal a moment 
before tds arrival gave Bellflower 
a cHance to compose His smile. 

WHen tHe amenities Had been 
completed, Bellflower said, "I 
understand Dr. Nostran will ar- 
rive tomorrow? I must congratu- 
late you again on obtaining Eis 
services.” 

“We were amazed He would 
consent,” said Colonel Ramsey. 
“He made a personal presentation 
and He was the only one wHo did 
wKo seemed to Have a firm, scien- 
tific grasp of our problem Here 
on TKyre. You would expect no 
less from Dr. Nostran. I don’t 
mind telling you, we felt very 
lucky to get Him.” 

“I am looking forward to die 
opportunity of working witB 
Him,” said Bellflower. “I Have 
been moving aHead as quickly 
as I can in His absence. I am 
presently recruiting senior staff 
members in accordance witH tEis 
Table of Organization.” He pass- 
ed tHe document over to Colonel 
Ramsey, wEo studied it 

At lengtH Colonel Ramsey 
said, “TBs is a professional doc- 
ument I wisH my people could 
do as well. But it’s wHat we ex- 
pect of you.” 

“I expect tEe quaUty of my 
work to be reviewed along witH 
everyone else’s,” said Bellflower. 
“A man stands on His perform- 
ance. I don’t Hke excuses. I don’t 
make excuses.” 



“A commendable attitude,” 
said the colonel. “I wish my peo- 
ple Sad that attitude, but I’m 
afraid there is a lack of true 
executive talent in tHe universe.” 

“I am slowly coming to an ap- 
preciation of the magnitude *f 
our problem Here on THyre,” 
said Bellflower. “I don’t want 
to xninimize tEe committment 
or resources that will Have 
to be made, nor do I wish to 
promise a solution within a week, 
a montH or even a year. This 
may be one of tHe most difficult 
problems ever tackled by the 
Human race.” 

“We didn’t find any scientific 
experts wKo tKougHt it would be 
easy.” 

CCT7undamentally,” said Bell- 
flower, “we are dealing 
with a problem of divergent cul- 
tures. Superficially these cultures 
are virtually identical. In fact, 
they are profoundly different. 
Tfieir very tHou^t processas, 
their very ways of tfiinldng about 
the universe, are at opposite ex- 
tremes. I see our job, in a larger 
sense, as achieving a synthesis of 
these two opposites. 

‘We must, in sEort, learn tfie 
thought processes of the TEyii- 
ans. We must follow ffiem up the 
evolutionary ladder; we must iso- 
late divergent tendencies, analyze 
them, project them info scientific 
constructs. These clues will offer 



THYRE PLANET 



45 




Dr. Nostran a philosophical ba- 
sis for His new pHysics. BoUj pro- 
grams must advance in parallel 
developmaits.” 

Colonel Ramsey, impressed, 
said, “I see Have not stop- 
ped tHinkmg after Having ^ade 
your successful presentation to 
the committee.” 

“I will work on tHis problem 
twenty-four Sours a day. I will 
saturate my subconscious until 
the Scientific Task Force be- 
comes the stuff of my dreams. 
I continually tum the dtuation 
over in my tSou^ts, seeking some 
tiny new insigSt, some small clue 
that can lead us a step forward. 
Step by step, clue by clue . . . ” 

Bellflower settled deep into 
his chair. His eyes lost their fo- 
cus to sight on distant, invisible 
goals — a technique Se Sad mas- 
tered only by self-deception. “I 
always encourage my people to 
see the positive aspects of any 
research. I do not believe nega- 
tive thinking is constructive. Let 
me give you an example. 

“I’ve talked to a dozen people 
who keep coming back to Cap- 
tain MacDonald’s blunder. What 
is to be served by worrying over 
that again? What is to be served 
by discussing endlessly Com- 
mander Aloseni’s role? Should 
he have forbidden the use of ra- 
dar? The whole question is aca- 
demic. Let’s take the positive ap- 
proach. 



“How could a culture develop 
to this point without discover- 
ing radar? How cotild they store 
all their recorded data, every bit 
of it, their whole history, on tape 
that could be erased by radar 
frequencies? 

“It doesn’t help to say that if 
all those recordings hadn’t been 
erased, we would be able easily 
to read the solution to our trans- 
portation problem from them. 
That’s past. What does help is 
asking ourselves how such an ad- 
vanced culture could be so stu- 
pid. This is the problem we have 
to address ourselves to.” 

<<XTour point is very well 
* taken,” said Colonel Ram- 
sey. “I wish my own people 
would leam to take a positive 
approach like that.” 

“My mind,” said Bellflower, 
“keeps continually returning to 
this cultural polarity. It illus- 
trates the magnitude of the task 
before us. The Thyrians Have de- 
veloped a method of transporta- 
tion unknown an}rwhere else in 
the universe. And yet, yet . . . 
it seems almost within our grasp, 
doesn’t it? We Have the Corsi 
equations. They tell us how to 
effect no-time transmissions be- 
tween spacial coordinates. And 
what is more common than star- 
ship flights? We think nothing 
of a journey of a thousand light- 
years. Yet the energy require- 



46 



GALAXY 




ments are fantastic and nowHere 
in tfie Corsi equations can we 
learn Eow to do matter trans- 
mission in close proximity to a 
strong gravitational field. 

“Yet Here on TKyre, witfi one 
atomic pile for power and a sin- 
gle computer, tlie TEyrians 
erected tEis vast network of mat- 
ter transmitters. WEat was tEe 
x-equation tlieir scientific genius 
evolved? We look at tEe world 
tHrougE different eyes. Ironic 
tEat neitEer race ever guessed tEe 
otBer’s secret!” 

“I wisE my people Ead your 
broad perspective,” said Colonel 
Ramsey. 

“I do not underestimate tEe 
magnitude of tEis job. I studied 
it carefully before I made appE- 
cation for the position of General 
Director. I would not Eave Eesi- 
tated to turn the appointment 
down if I felt for a ^gle mo- 
ment that there would not be 
enough resources to carry out ^e 
assignment properly. I expect 
defeat. 

“But I ultimately expect wc- 
tory. 

"Every day twenty men, wom- 
en and children step into a 
Booth, just like the one over 
there, and emerge mangled corp- 
ses an instant later. Every day 
people are horribly and perma- 
nently mutilated by that device. 
I, myself, saw Mayor Baile lose 
an ear. I want to work on this 



program. But I must know that 
our scientific people have every 
resource at their disposal. 

“Even if my scientists ulti- 
mately discover after years and 
years of work that there is no 
solution to the problem, I want 
to know that I, personally, made 
the best try anyone could make 
to end this needless slau^ter.” 
“Mr. Bellflower,” said Colonel 
Ramsey, “tHs is tSe kind of sup- 
port you Eave every rigfit to ex- 
pect from us. The committee, 
every man and woman on it, is 
personally committed to see that 
that is exactly the kind of sup- 
port you will get” 

“I deeply appredate your con- 
fidence,” said Bellflower. 

Ill 

'^wo days later, BeEflower 
spoke privately witfi !Bs 
cQief scientist. Dr. Seymour 
Nostran, newly arrived to as- 
sume duties. 

Bellflower opened the conver- 
sation on a social note. “You 
find, doctor, after a few trips 
in the Booth, you don’t mind it 
any more. We’re only losing 
twenty a day, on the average. 
TEe figure wiU go up as mere 
immigrants move in, but the 
odds remain constant.” 

Dr. Nostran did not dispute 
the point. 

“I suggest,” said Bellflower, 

47 



THYRE PLANET 




“we each make our own adjust- 
ment in. our own way. TKe only 
effect the sociologists Have noted 
has been a slight increase in f^e 
suicide rate. Each of us devel- 
ops our superstition: tiiat acci- 
dents won’t happen twice from 
the same booth; that an accident 
to a close associate or family 
member confers immunity on 
oneself; that a strong belief in 
the power of a talisman will in- 
fluence external reality in one’s 
favor .... We each adjust in our 
own way: you and I, to a knowl- 
edge of probabilities, which es- 
tablishes our thinking on a firm, 
scientific basis.” 

Dr. Nostran said, “My stom- 
ach still knots up every time I 



get into one of those damned 
things.” 

Dr. Nostran,” said Bellflower, 
“what do yon think of eur 
chances? What are we up agamst; 
what do we need to get the jeh 
done? I was certainly net able 
to follow an the details in ywui: 
presentation to the Thyre Geae- 
ndttee, but I wonder if you could 
explain the Nostran Theory to 
me in layman’s terms?” 

“The theory,” said Dr. Nos- 
tran, “is an evolutionary growth, 
the final culmination of research 
that extends back into antiquity. 
It no more bekmgs to me tten it 
does to the milhons of physi- 
cists traveling the same path be- 
fore me. You are familiar with 









wHat used to be called quantum 
mecEanics, one of tEe loveUest 
intellectual concepts of tEe Eu- 
man race? I returned to t£is tEe- 
ory ratEer tl^to tEe Corsi equa- 
tions. My contribution is to pos- 
tulate t&t tEe quanta do not 
reprsent discrete {jumps, but are 
composed of a number of inter- 
related elements I cEose to call 
pifilins. 

“Now tEe Nostran TEeory, so- 
called, essentially proposes tEat 
tEe various afpHa-pifilins inter- 
act witE tEe ^amma-pifilins to 
produce conditions formerly re- 
ferred to as tSe quanta. WEereas 
it could be demonstrated tEat tEe 
location or energy of a single 
quantum-particle was indeter- 
minate, I propose tEat botH the 
location and energy of tEe two 
pifiUns are indeterminate. This is 
tEe crucial point, Bowever: I sug- 
gest tEat tEe combination condi- 
tion, commonly Eeld to be tEe 
quanta, is absolutely determin- 
ate. Provided only tEat we can 
establisE t£e actual value for tEe 
ideal mass of ^tEer tEe a/pEa- 
pEilin or tEe {ganima-pEilin. TEe 
problem poses tmusual experi- 
mental difEculties. 

“I suggested to tEe TEyre 
Committee tiBat tEe maEunction 
of tEe transportation system on 
tEis planet arises from tlTig very 
uncertainty prindple, operating 
statistically over bilEons and bil- 
lions of molecules in transit be- 



tween Booths. TEe problem is 
insoluble in terms of our pres- 
ent revised Corsi equations. An 
aj>proacE tErougE tEe old quan- 
tum mecEanics, as reinterpreted 
by tEe Nostran TEeory, is our 
only Eope for success.” 

“TEen you are proposing ex- 
tensive researcE?” asked Bell- 
flower. “I took tEat to be tEe 
case from your presentation.” 
“TEere is no otEer way, Mr. 
Bellflower. I Eave devoted my 
life to tEis researcE, and I can 
tell you it will tax our resources 
to lEe limit E we are to con- 
clusively determine tEe ideal 
mass of the ^amma-pEilin. But 
it represents, in my opinion, tEe 
only real solution to TEs^e’s 
ghastly accident rate, 

“I may as well be frank witS 
you. Bellflower. I would never 
Eave consented to tEe scientEic 
management of tEis program E 
I felt for a single instant tEat 
pecunious administrators would 
witEEold needed funds, as they 
Eave been known to do all too 
often in tEe past WitE Euman 
lives at stake, almost 8,000 a 
year, we Eave no alternative but 
to persevere untE we Eave de- 
termined the ideal mass of tEe 
^amma-pEilin.” 

“And, doctor, once done — ?” 
“TEe engineers sEould be able 
to apply tEe new equations im- 
mediately in lEe redeagn of the 
Transportation System.” 



50 



GALAXY 




tugHt, Dr. Nostrani wrote 
' Eis colleague on tSe planet 
Tfiorsen: 

Dear Professor Rind: 

I am now established on 
Thyre Planet and have had a 
very successful conference with 
Reginald Bellflower, the princi- 
pal administrator of the project I 
wrote you about. I know you 
will be as elated as 1 am to 
learn that at last I am assured 
of adequate financial support to 
consummate my lifelong am- 
bition to determine the ideal 
mass of the gamma-pifilin. 

IV 

XTI^ithin a montK of arrival, Dr. 
~ ' Nostran supplied Bellflower 
witfi a detailed estimate of His 
projected requirements for tHe 
first full year of operation. 

Bellflower Had already acquir- 
ed a skeleton staff from' tHe local 
population and was beginning to 
add elective flesH. An unexpect- 
ed tind Had been tHe man to Head 
up tHe Engineering Division, a lo- 
cal applicant. THis permitted 
tHe preliminary design work to 
get underway wItHin six weeks 
after receipt of Dr. Nostran’s re- 
quest. Engineering promised con- 
struction could begin In eleven 
montHs on tHe largest particle 
accelerator ever conceived. 

Bellflower Hired a personnel di- 
rector from Eis own Home planet, 

THYRE PLANET 



Costain, known to Him by repu- 
tation: Dr. A. Jimg Fiedler. Be- 
tween tHem tEey outlined tHe re- 
cruiting program. First priority 
went to obtaining suitable people 
to Head tHe PurdHaring Contract 
Administration and Xenological 
Divisions, tHe last a divi^on par- 
ticularly forward in Bellflower’s 
tHougHts, wHose ^'oH would be to 
elaborate tHe psycHology on tHe 
aUen TEyrians. 

“Dr. Fiedler,” said Bellflower, 
“I want you to get your depart- 
ment built up as qtilckly as pos- 
sible. I want you free to con- 
centrate on getting In tHree or 
four top managers. I Hope you 
can start on tHat in two weeks. 
Let tHe staff Handle tHe engi- 
neers and scientists. But be sure 
tiiey know wHat tHej^re doing. 
Sell tHe job, sell its importance. 
I want to blanket tHe tinlverse 
wItH recruitment ads for just tHe 
rigHt people. Be sure to feature 
tHe fact Tfiyre was discovered by 
a Federation exploration team 
and tHat cHoice Homesteads are 
still available. Next, play up Dr. 
Nostran. He won’t be offended. 
And tHen Ht Heavy oti tHe oppor- 
tunities for professional advance- 
ment, tHe working conditions, the 
full support of tecEnIcal-minded 
management . . . you know the 
usual tHrng. Sell tHem' on tHe 
idea tHey’ll Have tHe best and 
latest equipment and virtually 
unlimited funds at tHeIr dispos- 

51 




al in view of the critical nature 
of the research.” 

“I thinh we ought to play 
down the actual problem we’re 
working ofi,” said Dr. Fiedler. 
“I’ve been here three days and I’m 
still terrified every time I get into 
a Transportation Booth. A lot of 
people will think twice before 
they’ll bring their families to 
a planet with a transportation 
system like this.” 

“That’s one reason we pay top 
salaries,” said Bellflower. “I’ll 
leave it to you how to handle 
it. Better set up a Psychology 
Group to do some depth research 
for you and come up with a sci- 
entific approach for the copy- 
writers.” 

“I was thinking along those 
lines,” said Dr. Fiedler. 

“Let’s try to get some genu- 
inely creative people in the or- 
ganization, too. We’re committed 
to Dr. Nostran’s general ap- 
proach; we must see he gets ev- 
ery person He needs. But we can 
support him with a lot of per- 
ipheral research. I’m thinking, 
now, of a special group in the 
Xenological Division to exam- 
ine the feasibility of locating 
surviving THyrians. First, what 
are the probabilities that there 
are still Tlqrrians on the planet? 
How much of the planet has not 
been explored by us as yet? 
Where would the Thyrians logi- 
cally be Hiding? 



“Let’s check every inch of ter- 
ritory on the map for possible 
sites. Let’s run an analysis to 
find out the probability not only 
of rinding Thyrians, but also the 
probability of finding a techni- 
cally oriented TEyrian. Out of 
the total population, whatever it 
was, what percentage of Thyri- 
ans were likely to understand 
How the Transportation System 
actuaDy operated? In other 
words, statistically speaking, 
what is the maximum number 
of Thyrians that could be hid- 
ing, and out of this number, 
what are our chances of finding 
one who could contribute to the 
solution of our problem? Would 
the actual search, in short, be 
worth the expense? 

“Let’s find out tiow many 
aliens there were on the planet 
when the cities were inhabited. 
Let’s study the cities and esti- 
mate the size of the population 
they were built to serve. 

“Let’s set up a group to find 
out what was the recent disaster 
that led to the total disappear- 
ance of the Th3uians. How long 
ago did it happen? Let’s find out 
why they incinerated their dead 
and why their visual artists 
avoided the representation of ob- 
jects from nature. 

“This is the type thinking I 
want. Let’s go after creative peo- 
ple.” 

“I’m with you all the way,” 



52 



GALAXY 




“I want tiiose thxee division 
<&ectors witHin tHree monttvs. 
Wie’re going to cut ttie nonnal 
recruiting time in Half all tHe 
way down the line!” 

U nder the dynamic manage- 
ment of Bellflower, the op- 
eration began to snowball. By 
itfie time of ground-brealdng cer- 
emonies for tHe particle accel- 
erator — only two months befiind 
scBediile — Bellflower was able 
to assure tHe growing population 
of THyre Planet tfiat everytfiing 
conceivable was being done. 

Now In tfie second year of tHe 
operation. Bellflower began to 
devote His energies to larger as- 
pects of tfie problem. 

He was as conditioned as any 
man on tfie planet to tfie use of 
Transportation Booths. His fre- 
quent statement tfiat fie made 
more trips in a day in overseeing 
tfie vast organization tfian most 
citizens made In a week indicat- 
ed Bs interest In tfie solution was 
vitally personal. 

Colonel Ramsey, tfie presi- 
dent’s liaison witfi Bellflower now 
tfiat tfie , citizens committee, goal 
eccomplisfied, fiad been dissolved, 
came for Bs biweekly bribing. 

“We’re approacBhg a planet- 
wide deatfi rate of thirty a day,” 
tfie colonel said. 

“I’ve seen tfie papers,” said 
Bellflower. “We’re not getting 
our story across. Look at tfie 

THYRE PLANET 



tremendous progress we’ve made 
just during the last quarter. Dr« 
Nostran’s accelerator is nearly 
back on schedule. We have ex- 
panded tfiirteen per cent in terms 
of technical staff alone. Approx- 
imately one million people are 
now directly on our payrolls, not 
to mention the people paid by 
tfie independent contractors. We 
have inaugurated a new division 
exclusively to study the opera- 
tion of tfie Transportation Booths 
from a theoretical standpoint, in- 
cluding what actually occurs dur- 
ing transit. We Haven’t even been 
able to solve tfiat problem for 
tfie starsBps! So you see we’re 
trying every approach tfiat is 
even remotely promising. This is 
tfie story we Have to get across.” 
“Tfie president understands 
tBs,” said Colonel Ramsey. “The 
papers are maldng very unin- 
formed criticisms. We’re much 
nearer to tfie solution than we 
were a month ago, and there has 
been no hint of waste and mis- 
manag^ent above tfie nominal 
t ninlmiim you’ve got to expect 
and allow for in a crash opera- 
tion of tBs magnitude. But it’s 
a difficult point, as you say.” 

(CT don’t know Sow often I’ve 
* repeated obvious state- 
ments,” said Bellflower. “Take 
ffie truism: In physics, tfie 

smaller tiSe phenomenon under 
investigation, tfie larger tfie en- 

53 




ergy requirement WHat can be 
more obvious? And tHe death 
rate: of course it is going up. 
What would you expect? TKe 
population is going up I Cut down 
on tH^ population, you’ll cut 
down on the death rate.” 

“We Have some room for op- 
timism on that point,” said Col- 
onel Ramsey. “Most of tHe 
Homestead property is gone. THe 
Federation team expects to com- 
plete tKeir work of processing 
claims in another month or two< 
Our projection now is that the 
immigrant population will peak 
at two million in three years. 
Then we’ll hnd out how stable 
the population is going to be, 
whether TEyre will continue to 
grow in a logical fashion, or 
whether Thyre is just another 
flash in the pan. ^t we’re al- 
most over the hump on the 
population, and we can be grate- 
ful for that.” 

“There are several iHngs we 
can do about the immediate 
problem,” said Bellflower. ‘We 
need a Public Relations Division 
to keep the citizens abreast of 
our work. We’re going to have 
to start getting out press releas- 
es, posters, documentary films, 
tie-in promotions with toy man- 
ufacturers . . . you know the sort 
of thing I mean. We need some 
good people for a Speakers’ Bu- 
reau to get the message to the 
fraternal organizations, the busi- 



ness groups and the schools. We 
are going to have to create a whole 
new image of STFSTETP, start- 
ing from the ground up, with a 
new, catchy nickname.” 

“We’ve definitely got to im- 
prove the image before the or- 
ganization becomes a political 
football,” said Colonel Ramsey, 
Bellflower bent forward to his 
desk and requested, by means of 
the intercom, delivery of a doc- 
ument. When the secretary 
brought it, He said, “Colonel 
Ramsey, I want you to look this 
over. I’ve been thinking of the 
larger aspects of the work. An 
administrator is not only respon- 
sible for selling the program to 
management — in ffis case the 
billion and a half citizens on 
Thjo-e. But he is also responsi- 
ble for making whatever contri- 
bution He can to the financial 
end of the operation. 

“Appropriations time is coming 
up very soon.” He handed across 
the document and continued ffis 
explanation. “I’m not surprised 
at the costs we’ve run into. I 
have never minced words on the 
subject of costs, nor has Dr. 
Nostran. But it’s not going to 
be as expensive as converting to 
land transportation, as some have 
proposed. All the cities on Thyre 
are organized to accommodate 
the Transportation Booths. It 
would be impossible to put in a 
safe and rational system of sur- 



54 



GALAXY 




face streets. Tfie expense of in- 
ter-city higHways, on top of tEat, 
would be astronomical I THat ap- 
proach is out. I’ve Heard people 
say, well, can we afford to solve 
the problem? Is it worth it?” 

■nellflower bent forward intent- 
ly, fixing Colonel Ramsey’s 
eyes. “Unless something is done, 
In three years we’ll be losing for- 
ty people a day, fourteen thou- 
sand six Hundred a year I The 
economic cost alone, in terms of 
deaths and injuries, is already 
between half and one billion dol- 
lars a year, by very conservative 
figures. And this says noting of 
the human suffering. The ques- 
tion must not be: Can we pay 
for the solution? The qu^tion 
must be: Haw can we pay for 
the solution?” 

“The president is vniS you 
one himdred per cent,” said Col- 
onel Ramsey. 

“Please glance tBrough the pro^ 
iK>sal. Let me know wEat you 
think.” 

Colonel Ramsey read quietly 
for a full minute. Looking up 
lit last, he asked, “Do you think 
we can sell it?” 

“I know we can sell it,” said 
llellflower. “T£5s is one of an ad- 
ministrator’s many jobs, if he 
knows his business. All I need is 
life president’s full support and 
I ooperation.” 

“Looking back,” said Colonel 



Ramsey, “I think we should have 
gone after Federation money in 
the very beginning.” 

“Yes,” said Bellflower, “I could 
Have recommended it at the time. 
But experience has indicated to 
me that it’s always better to wait 
a year or two. You have to con- 
vince the Federation people that 
you’re serious yourself, that you 
really intend to carry through. 

“If we had tried a year ago, 
we might not have succeeded. 
What did we Have to show them, 
then? And it’s too hard trying to 
go back in after you’ve lost once. 
Now we’re ready. 

“This program is a natural for 
the Federation. Once we get this 
little Idnk worked out of the 
transportation system, look at 
what the Federation will Have 
bought foi: its tinandal supporti 
For the first Stile in Bstory we 
will haye oisetnBonal matter 
tran^fters whi function in 
any gruidfaticnial fidd. It will 
revolutionize franspotiation on 
the stsdface of eveiy planet in the 
Federation. Even the spin-off 
from such research is of incalcu- 
lable valuel” 

“I wish you would come with 
me this afternoon,” said Colonel 
Ramsey “and tell the president 
what you’ve told me. Tell it 
just the way you’ve told it to 
me.” 

“I want you to think of the ad- 
vantages of this to Thyre. With 



fHYRE PLANET 



55 




Federation backing, we can really 
get tbe program into higU gear. 
T Kinir of wfiat it will mean to 
tKe wHole economy of Tfiyre!” 
“You mu^ Mr. Bellflower, 
come tell tfie President tins your- 
self. I can’t tell you Eow entGu- 
siastic I am for tEe ideal” 

V 

T Eree montEs later. Bellflower 
returned from Coueril, tEe 
planetary Eeadquarters of tEe 
Federation of Star Systems. 

He reported to tEe president 
on tEe success of Eis mission. 

"Mr. Presiident, I am submit- 
ting a written report, but I’m 
very pleased and gratified to 
have this opportunity of giving 
you a first-Eand account. I must 
tell you in tEe beginning tEat 
tEe staff you sent witE me did 
a magnMcent job. I literally 
could not Eave done it witfiout 
tEem. I cannot praise too ffigfi- 
ly Mr. Leggitt, from tEe TEyrian 
National CEamber of Commerce. 
TEere is no man more genuinely 
dedicated to tEe walfare of TEyre 
tEan Mr. Leggitt. 

“I can report tEe mission was 
entirely successful. We Eave a 
firm committment of ten bilEon 
dollars from tEe Federation emer- 
gency fund. TEat will solve our 
immediate problem witE tEe ac- 
celerator backup researcE in six 
montEs. After tEat, I believe we 



can really start talking witE them 
about substantial monies.” 

“Mir. Bellflower,” said tEe 
president of TEyre, "I don’t need 
to tell you tEat today you are 
one of tEe most popular men 
on TEyre Planet. I want to as- 
sure you, personally, and the 
wEole Save Our CEildrenI or- 
ganization tEat we will give you 
every possible support I can’t 
tell you witE wEat emotions we 
Eave all greeted tEe Federation 
action.” TEe president glanced 
into tEe distance. “TEyre Planet 
is a small, new insignificant plan- 
et crying out to tEe stars for aid 
in our Eour of crisis. Now, 
tErougE you, Mr. Bellflower, tEe 
stars Eave tEundered back tEeir 
support. Here are tEe bilEon bU- 
Eon people in tEe known uni- 
verse, united tErou^ tEe Feder- 
ation of Star Systems, extending 
a Band of assistance to tEe least 
of tEeir brotEers. No grander day 
Eas been known in t£e Bstory el 
tEe race of mani How true it is; 
Ask and it ^aU be given you. I 
Eeard of your success on TV, Mr. 
Bellflower, witE tears of grati- 
tude in my eyes.” 

B ellflower, as Ee waited for Dr. 

Nostran, surveyed Eis new 
offices witE appreciation. TEey 
occupied one complete floor of 
tEe Commercial BuEding in cen- 
tral Aloseni, tEe major City on 
TEyre Planet. TEe main office 



56 



GAlAXYl 




Had beea completely; remodeled 
during his fifteea-day stay on 
Coueril. Hia offices in the new 
SOC Administration Complex, 
now under construction, would be 
even grander. 

Before Him on the desk, the 
second annual report awaited His 
approval. Two hours from now. 
He waa scheduled to receive an 
Honorary Doctor of Humanities 
degree from tHe Univergity of 
Altung, center of mucH rmearcH 
on THyrian psychology sponsored 
by SOC. His remarlm were be- 
fore Him for final reading. THe 
weekly Divirional Progress Re- 
ports Summary awaited Hia 
study. 

Dr. Nostran stepped from tHe 
Transportation BootB, smiling. 
“Congratulations, Bellflowerl It’s 
been all over iTV for tHe last 
three daysl Wonderful nevrel We 
are pusBng full ahead on the ac- 
celerator.” 

Bellflower extended a hand. 
"How good of you to come over. 
Please have a seat. Dr. Nostran. 
I won’t keep you but a few nun- 
utes.” 

Beaming, Dr. Nostran, looking 
younger and more fit than when 
he arrived on THyre Planet more 
than two years ago, drew up the 
chair and settled himself into it. 
“My own work is showing good 
progress. For the first time I 
feel we are on our way toward 
making solid progress.” 

THYRE PLANET 



“I’ve been reading some of 
the old weekly progress reports 
since I got back,” Bellflower said. 
“I seem to remember, Doctor, 
that you once told me you could 
solve the problem by measuring 
the ideal mass of either the a/- 
pHa- or ^amma-pifilin. I Have 
not seen any work at all on the 
alpHa-pifilin.” 

'T^r. Nostran admitted he had 
' been working on only the 
igamma-pifilin. It would be ver^' 
very difficult to do that for the 
a/pha-pifilin. Being time-nega- 
tive, it presents exceptional in- 
strumentation problems. If we 
had a small time maclune, the 
difficulties would be reduced by 
an order of magnitude.” 

“Isn’t a time machine a Httle 
out of the question. Dr. Nos- 
tran? The Corsi equations pretty 
much eliminate the possibiHty of 
time travel in this universe, don’t 
they?” 

“Benjamin Corsi was insane I” 
snapped Dr. Nostran. “There’s 
no question about the authentic- 
ity of Bstorical documentation on 
that point; I have examined 
many of tiie original source ma- 
terials myself. A small time ma- 
chine just enough to move a 
negative mass a distance of 10'^^* 
angstroms is all we would re- 
quire.” 

“If we could build a time ma- 
chine,” said Bellflower after a 

57 




moment, “couldn’t we just go 
back and get all tEose tapes 
MacDonald accidentally erased? 
Where would tKat leave your 
main project?” 

“We couldn’t build one tfiat 
large until we got tHe ideal mass 
of the pifilin. You can see tSat, 
Bellflower. A small one, maybe. 
Not a big one.” 

“You mean you would really 
know how to build a time ma- 
chine if you could get tSe ideal 
mass of tKe pifilin?” 

“Jesus CKrist, Bellflower, wHat 
do you tHink I’m working on? 
I’m talking about tHe ideal mass 
of the pitilinl Once we find ^at, 
it’s the key to everytffingl” 

“Well,” said Bellflower, “per- 
haps I could sell t£em just a 
small time mac^e. WEaf do you 
think it would cost to get re- 
search started along tEose lines 
on a modest scale? One bilEon? 
Two bilEon?” 

So the conversation went. At 
length, Having overstayed ffis 
time, Dr. Nostran stepped into 
the Transportation BootE and 
vanished about lus business. 

Bellflower closed Eis eyes and 
allowed himself a moment of 
speculation. Suppose Dr. Nostran 
was right — and wfio could pos- 
sibly know whetEer Ee was ri^t 
or not? What kind of a socie^ 
most certainly would still Have 
to administer tEe operation of 
getting rid of all the mistakes in 

58 



Human History, past and future. 
It would be a job to cHallenge 
His own talents. It would be a 
colossal program wHicE would 
last more tHan a fiuman lifetime. 

Dr. Nostran was 50 years old. 
TEeoretical work He Had done 
25 years ago was now in graduate 
sdHool texts on a bilHon planets. 
As t£e impEcations of latest 
equations became partially evi- 
dent, many were beginning to call 
Him tHe Corsi of tEe Universe. 
At latest count, Ee Had 92 mil- 
Eon Eonorary doctor’s degrees, 
indicating tHe general esteem in 
wEicE Ee was Held by His col- 
leagues. Bellflower was complete- 
ly persuaded tEat Dr. Nostran 
was t£e perfect man for the job 
of solving tEe transportation 
problem on THyre Planet. 

VI 

W itE the second influx of 
Federation money on tHe 
promised scEedule, BeEflower ap- 
proved tEe plans for construc- 
tion of tEe vast new Research 
Center, occupying a ten-mile- 
long site paraUel to tHe particle 
accelerator excavation. THe par- 
ticle accelerator itseE would ul- 
timately consist of a gentle spi- 
ral trackway rising twenty-two 
stories above ground level. Con- 
struction was proceeding on 
scEedule, and the 20-mEe-long, 
mile-deep trencH Had been dug. 

GALAXY 




Bellflower was'also occupied witiS 
a new propo^l requested by tEe 
president of TEyre Planet. TEig 
envisioned tEe conversion of ma- 
jor areas of tEe planet to researcB 
sites — some connected witE 
SOC, otEers independent of it. At 
Bellflower’s suggestion, master 
plans were in preparation to con- 
vert TEyre Planet to one of tEe 
major researcH faciUEes in tEe 
universe. SOC was estabE^ung a 
solid base for tEis new construc- 
tion. It already possessed a sub- 
stantial number of tEe most fam- 
ous scientists available, eacE la- 
boring at tEe details of Eis spe- 
cialty in accordance witS Dr. 
Nostran’s vision. Soon it would 
be doubtful that even the re- 
quirements of SOC could imme- 
diately accommodate usefully all 
tiie available talent tEey were 
funded for. 

If Bellflower could be said to 
Have a problem, it involved tEe 
time maclune. TEe Federation 
inspection team was due in a 
montE. TEey would go over tEe 
complete operation of tiie minut- 
est detail. Bellflower knew tiie 
financial management aspect was 
secure against critidsm. TEe Fed- 
eration accountants would locate 
some duplication, tEe elinunation 
of wEicE would save a few mil- 
mion dollars Eere and tiiere to 
Justify tiieir jobs, but otEervnse 
they would approve tiie program 
as it stood. TEe senior scientific 



staff would doubtless be reluc- 
tant to criticize Dr. Nostran on 
any point, but some junior sci- 
entist, just out of school, would 
unquestionably cEallenge tEe time 
macffine on tEe basis of tEe Cord 
equations. TEis could lead to an 
interminable squabble between 
exi>erts, and so-caUed experts, 
and in tEe end cause tEe wEole 
debate to erupt into imwanted 
pubEdty. 

Bellflower dedded the best 
way to avoid difficulty was to 
confront tEe time-macEine re- 
searcB squarely at tiie first meet- 
ing. TEe Federation sdentists 
must be made to understand that 
only a small time macEine would 
be involved and the cost of tiie 
development would never exceed 
ten per cent of the total effort. 
Even if tiie research failed, it had 
cost next to nothing. 

Bellflower would have to take 
tEe Federation contracting offi- 
cer aside and explain that there 
was no intention of attempting 
to develop an operational model. 
It was difficult to see how any 
rational Federation officer in 
any position of authority could 
justify funds for that sort of 
research, tince the benefits of the 
development were obscure and 
the multiple disadvantages and 
inherent problems too readily ap- 
parent. The contracting officer 
must be made unequivocably to 
understand tiiat Dr. Nostran’s de- 



THYRE PLANET 



59 




vice, if successful, would be noth- 
ing more than another tool for 
the experimental physicists, with' 
no wider application area, ex- 
cept possibly for demonstra- 
tions at fairs and in undergrad- 
uate science classrooms. 

Bellflower's reflections were 
disturbed by the dear-circuit 
signal on Eis Transportation 
Bootli. Bellflower looked up. He 
Bad just time to compose Eis face 
to its most stony severity be- 
fore the visitors emerged. It was 
the height of discourtesy to ar- 
rive without advance notification. 

Out stepped a man Bellflower 
Identified as one of Dr. Nos- 
tran’s senior scientists. “Mr. Bell- 
flower,” He said, “I Hate to go 



over Dr. Nostran’s head this way, 
but I think we’ve stumbled onto 
the solution to our problem.” 
“WEat problem is that?” ask- 
ed Bellflower coldly. 

“TEe problem of what’s wrong 
witE the transportation system on 
tQs planet,” the man said. 

“WEat in God’s name are you 
talking about?” demanded Bell- 
flower. 

“It’s simply a question of a 
malfunction in the computer.” 
“God damn it, man I There 
can't be anything wrong with that 
computer. . . . Can there?” 

>^he president was smiling wEeif 
Bellflower stepped out of 
tKe Transportation Booth. 



“Mr. Bellflower, it’s always 
good to see you. I can’t imagine 
what sort of emergency you have 
in mind. But you know you have 
my support in the matter with- 
out asking,;” He drew Bellflower 
to the comfortable chair and 
went to the adjacent one. “Now, 
Mr. Bellflower, lets hear it.” 
“There is a remote possibility, 
Mr. President, that our research 
may have been rewarded.” 

“In what way, Mr. Bellflow- 
er?” asked the president sympa- 
thetically. 

“We may Have found out 
what’s wrong with the transpor- 
tation system.” 

In the face of presidential si- 
lence, Bellflower preserved a re- 
spectful attitude of waiting. 

“You really know what’s wrong 
with it?” asked the president at 
last. 

“There’s a possibility that 
something’s wrong with the 
computer. The evidence is strong 
enough to suggest an investiga- 
tion. The Federation people 
would be sme to insist on an 
investigation, in the face of the 
evidence I’ve seen.” 

“I see,” the president said, re- 
laxing. “Approximately how 
much additional funds do you 
think this will come to? Will we 
have to go back to the Federa- 
tion right now, or can we swing 
the first part with what we’ve 
already been given?” 



“The technicians think they 
can have it fixed tomorrow,” 
said Bellflower. 

\ gain there was silence, which 
began as though it mi^t 
continue for eternity. Bellflower 
could appreciate the president’s 
thoughts. 

“In case they’re right,” Bell- 
flower said, “we are confronted 
with some serious problems!” 
The voice reached the pres- 
ident in his cave of shat- 
tered ambitions. He roused him- 
self to the present. “I’m sorry, 
Mr. Bellflower. What was that 
again?” 

“I say we may have a lot of 
problems on our minds. If these 
technicians are right, the prob- 
lems involved in phasing out the 
SOC organization on Thyre 
Planet are going to Have to be 
thought about right now. Do you 
realize how many people are in- 
volved? Do you realize the mag- 
nitude of this effect upon the 
lives of our citizens? Do you re- 
alize what an integral part of 
Thyrian life SOC has become?” 
“I’m just stunned, Mr. Bell- 
flower,” said the president. “I’m 
sure you’ve done all you can. I 
need a moment to pull myself 
together.” 

“I knew you would be fully as 
elated as I am,” said Bellflower, 
“Yes, of course,” said the pres- 
ident. 



62 



GALAXY 




Bellflower folded his hands 
and waited. The president’s 
thoughls were now exploring all 
the unprofitable alternatives 
Bellflower’s mind had already ex- 
plored. Delicate sensibilities pre- 
vented them from being vocalized. 

The one Hope Bellflower Had 
realistically glimpsed in His own 
analysis was fragmented on the 
character of the chief scientist 
lumself, Dr. Nostran. There were 
probably several thousand phys- 
icists and mathematicians who 
could see the implications of the 
time machine implicit in Dr. 
Nostran’s pifilin research. One of 
the stupid bastards would inev- 
itably let the cat out of the bag 
in his enthusiasm, and the whole 
concept of continued Federation- 
sponsored research on Thyre 
Planet would go up the infinity 
tube. 

“Well,” said the president at 
length, “We can’t be sure that 
this new plan or whatever it is 
will actually work, can we? 
There’s a good chance it won’t, 
isn’t there?” 

After the conference with the 
president. Bellflower called on 
Dr. Nostran. Dr. Nostran took 
the visit rather badly, as Bell- 
dower had known he would. 

VII 

T est day came. The day in ad- 
vance, all communications 



media warned the citizens to re- 
frain from tise of the Transpor- 
tation Booths from 11:09 ajm 
until the govenunent gave ffie 
all-clear announcement. Kteven 
o’clock approached. 

The president and Befifloweil 
Had run through their victory 
statements on the television 
prompters. The president’s re- 
marks began: “Citizens, the mo- 
ment we have all jirayfully 
hoped for so long has at last 
arrived.” Bellflower began: *T 
cannot tell you, today, the faide 
I feel in having been instrumen- 
tal in a small measure in the 
glorious events of this afternoon. 
But in a larger sense, no one man 
can claim credit for our victory, 
not even the beloved Dr. Nos- 
tran. The events today demon- 
strate once again that if you are 
willing to make a large enough 
committment of your treasure, 
no iiroblem in the universe is too 
complicated for man to solve.” 

The alternative addresses, call- 
ing for renewed dedication and 
sacrifice, were also on hand in 
the unhappy event of failure. 

The president, along with Bell- 
flower and major i>olitical digni- 
taries, watched the TV coverage 
on a screen in the wall. Dr. Nos- 
tran had declined to attend the 
cerOiiomes, pleading urgent lab- 
oratory work. 

The screen now showed tech- 
nicians as they prepared to dis- 



THYRE PLANET 



63 




connect the computer. “We’re 
waiting now for you people out 
tHere to clear the Booths,” said 
the announcer impatiently for the 
fifth or sixth time. “Please do 
not i)se the Transportation 
Booths! You could be seriously 
Burt or killed!” The camera 
studied flickering lights on the 
control panel. The announcer 
pleaded, “Please, tell everybody 
you know not to use the BooiHs! 
We can’t shut off the computer 
until every last light goes off!” 

This went on for approximate- 
ly thirty minutes. Slowly, the 
number of lights decreased on 
the control panel until only a 
few were left. THere was sudden- 
ly a moment when all the lights 
were off. “Now!” cried a voice. 
The board went dead. All trans- 
portation across Thyre Planet 
ceased. “I certainly Hope we 
didn’t catch anyone in the sys- 
tem at cut-off,” said the announ- 
cer. “I thought I did see one 
light come on, just before the 
board went dead; let’s Hope not! 
Now, while the technicians re- 
place the deficient unit, we will 
switch to the volunteers across 
the planet. Let’s talk to these 
brave people.” 

The interviews with^the volun- 
teers went on seemingly without 
end. “Are you afraid. Miss Jones, 
to be one of the first to use the 
Booths after repairs?” 

“They’re going to send some 



kitties through first,” she said. “If 
the kitties can make it, I’m will- 
ing to try.” 

The proceedings wore on. Only 
one small note of tragedy inter- 
rupted them. A special bulletin 
came on one Hour and ^teen 
minutes after cut-off. “Ladies and 
Gentlemen. We have just re- 
ceived a report that a family of 
four are believed to Have been 
caught in transit during cut-off 
of the Transportation Booths. Mr. 
Arnold Hutchins, 43, his wife, 
Mabel, age unknown, and their 
two children, Mary and Kath- 
leen, seven and nine, all of 1700 
Bentway Road, Aloseni, stepped 
into their Transportation Booth 
on their way to a local cinema 
at the exact time of cut-off. Po- 
lice are now verifying the re- 
port, which was made by Mrs. 
Winifred Friendly, mother of the 
deceased "Wife, who was at the 
family home at the time and 
who witnessed the tra^c develop- 
ment. The family Bad been 
watching television imtil just a 
moment before the disaster^ Mr* 
Hutchins’s last words uport en- 
tering the Booth are reported to 
Have been, ‘We still have a lot 
of time. This thing will go oil 
for hours.’ 

“The Hutchins family and 
Mrs. Friendly, immigrants from 
the Extertian System, arrived on 
Thjire Planet three years ago 
and homesteaded the site at 1700 



64 



GALAXY 




Bentway Road, where they Have 
lived since arrival. We Have Had 
no late word on funeral ar> 
ittc^enents, but it is assumed by 
police lEat final details are still 
Gontingenf on recovery of tHe 
four Codies.” 

It was sli^tly after 1 :30 wHen 
tEe computer was reactivated, its 
original function restored. 

Af tBat instant, unaware of 
•ny time lapse since stepping 
Into tHeir Transportation Bootfis 
on tiSeir way back Home from 
tEe world-wide annual picnic, 
tEe THyrians emerged all across 
tEe planet. In physical appear- 
ance, tHey closely resembled tEe 
oriental race from tHe antiquity 
of MotEereartE. 

In tEe space of a Heartbeat, 
tErougE tEe residental areas of 
TEyre Planet, there were Happy, 
Holidaying THyrians everywHere. 

Happened?” demand- 
tHe president as THyri- 
ans slowly acquiring puzzled 
looks overlayed with confusion, 
began to appear before televi- 
ilon cameras. 

“Apparently,” said Bellflower, 
they all got caught coming back 
from somewhere when the com- 
puter first went on tEe blink.” 

“OH, my God!” cried tHe presi- 
dent, as the magnitude of tEe dis- 
Niter became apparent. “How 
many of tSem are tHere?” 

Bellflower said, “THe latest 

IHYRE PLANET 



figures I’ve seen from the Xen- 
ological Division was an osti- 
mate of about four billion.” 
Bellflower turned to the oilier 
£gmtaries assembled in the pres- 
ident’s suite. “Gentlemen,” He 
said. His expression without omo-' 
tion, “some of tHe blame for all 
this is mine for relying too Heav- 
ily on the scientific staff.” 
Outride, tHe four billion Tfty- 
rians, together with tHe billion 
and a Half EartHmen, the two 
races babbling incomprehei»ibly 
at each other, presented to the 
mind unquestionably the most 
tangled logistics problem ever 
encountered in tHe uruverse. 

THe president, in an awestruck 
voice said, “WHat do you think 
they will do when tHey find out 
we accidentally destroyed every 
single bit of tape recording on 
tfie planet — their History, ihek 
literature, their music ... ?” 
“They’re going to be danuMd 
mad,” one of tHe dignitaries said. 

“]^. President,” tfie televisioa 
teclinician said. “You’re on.” 
From the television screen on 
the wall came tHe words, “Ladies 
and Gentlemen, tHe Prerident of 
THyre ...” 

Bellflower’s thoughts turned to 
future challenges to His skill. He 
speculated on How the company 
who wrote His resumes for him 
would recount this latest suoooss 
for the edification of future em- 
ployer. —KRIS NEVILLE 

65 




t:hf.injing 



by JACK WODHAMS ^6 




T Teidi Had' dismantled tBe 
house again. No, nol God, 
liow be Hated cHange. TEeo look- 
ed down at Hi^ feet, at tHe block 
set in tSe in^-long gra^. THe nu- 
merals 29. Yes, iHis was wHere 
his House was located. 

He raised His eyes to view His 
Home again. It was totally un- 
recognizable. WHy, oH wEy didn’t 
sHe leave it alone? He gave Her 
too mucH leeway^ Did Ee aim for 
realism too But so oppo- 

site! Heidi^ Hiddi, after a man 
Had Ead a Baid day feeding and 
elucidating Sudoatfons in Studi- 
Com Ee did not want to come 



Home and Have to do battle witlj 
a vastly altered domicile. 

TEeo sigKed despairingly, 
Where Had she put' tHe front 
door This morning it Had bees 
smack-dab in tHe middle of a 
neo-colonial facade. SHe must 
Have reduced tHe place as soofl 
as He left. Now tHe House appear* 
ed to be an angled L-sHape, in a 
later style witH incongruous ori- 
ental embellisHments. It was, 
Th’eo supposed, the most recent 
fashion fad. 

He trudged around tHe right* 
Hand side of the building. It was 
bad enough when she just cHang* 



66 



ed around some of the inside 
walls. She was never satisfied 
with anything for more than a 
week. Theo tradged on, shaking 
his head at his own uncanny 
knack of seeming always to be 
able to choose the wrong direc- 
tion — 

Theo came to what he conjec- 
tured to be the back door. He 
climbed duroplast steps, thumbed 
the ident. The door opened. At 
least she seemed to have hung 
one of them straight on its mag- 
strip this time. He stepped into 
a strange kitchen, ignored the de- 
sign and disposal of its furniture, 
headed for the outlet archway. 

He next found himself in a 
room that had puce walls, a pink 
ceiling and a purple floor. Flik- 
flims had been clipped at crazy 
angles to the walls, a whole three- 
doUar boxful by the looks of 
things. From the arrangement of 
selected appurtenances Theo was 
unable to decide whether it was 
a dining room, playroom or 
lounge. He shuddered. It looked 
terrible. 

^lick, click, click. Heidi’s shoes. 

Always her stride sounded 
military. “Theo.” And there was 
Heidi. “Don’t say you don’t like 
it! It’s taken me all day, and I 
haven’t finished yet.” 

“Heidi,” he appealed hopeless- 
ly, ‘Svhaf s wrong with it the way 
it was?” 



“I didn’t like it. I got tired of 
it. You don’t know what it’s like 
staring at the same old walls 
every day. I wanted a change.” 
“But it’s only three or four 
weeks since you changed' it last. 
I thought you’d leave it that way 
for a while.” 

“I didn’t like it,” she repeated 
flatly. “What’s wrong with a 
change now and then?” 

“But so soon! Why didn’t you 
tell me?” 

“Because you’d have been 
against it,” she said accurately. 
“Whafs the point of having U- 
Bild if you don’t make a few 
changes occasionally?” 

“Gradual changes, improve- 
ments, yes. But you alter the en- 
tire place.” He gestured at tlie 
room. “Nothing here is the same.” 
“It is an improvement,” she 
stated. “It is better than it was.” 
“Whafs it supposed to be?” 
he asked. “No, don’t tell me. I’d 
rather not know.” 

“You don’t appreciate me. You 
have no understanding,” she said 
coldly. “You try to repress my 
creative instinct.” 

“Here we go again,” he mut- 
tered. “Heidi, you have no cre- 
ative instinct, and your taste gets 
worse all the time. You’re not 
creating, you’re copying. You’re 
just scrambling after the latest 
thing they put through the ma- 
trices tuner. You’re not resisting 
the under-pitch.” 



HOA^ESPINNER 



67 




“What do you know about cre- 
ation?” she said. “You have no 
sensitivity, no flair! All day it’s 
taken me, and what do you know 
about it? You are a stodge, a 
plebeian, a philistine.” 

“I want ^ home that stays rea- 
sonably still. Is that too much?” 
he said. “A place where I know 
where to find my shoes, where I 
know where the bathroom is, 
where I can find my way in the 
dark without walking into walls 
and tripping over things.” 

“You wouldn’t change at all, 
would you?” she countered. 

“No, I wouldn’t,” he agreed, 
capitulating. "Which way to the 
bedroom?” 

“There is no bedroom. I have 
a geisha salon,” she said coolly. 
“Your samurai cell is through' 
there, past flie tearoom on the 
left” 

What was the use of arguing? 
He had only himself to blame, 
hadn’t he? What alternative did 
he have? Separate rooms now! 

Theo walked in the direction 
indicated, bowed and suffering. 

“No appreciation,” Heidi said. 
“No appreciation at all.” 

'^He bed was absent, the foam 
roll being placed directly up- 
on the floor. The walls were dec- 
orated with large garish yellow 
slashes made by a spectro-sweep. 
The intention seemed to have 
been to acEeve some semblance 



of picture-writing. It failed. 
Wardrobe flats had been convert- 
ed into a concertina screen and 
ray-bathed to a greenish gold. 
Ray-bathed to a similar color 
also were the other furnishings 
in the room, a low li-back chair, 
a broad low table, a large chest 
■with uneven spikes on the cor- 
ners of its lid. 

Theo dropped his case and sag- 
ged. As a youngster he had 
traipsed over the countryside 
with Es father, an itinerant fruit- 
plchcr. Theo had worked, fought, 
to climb the social ladder. He 
had known apartments, cara- 
vans, dormitories, hotel rooms. 
Now he wanted a home. And he 
had a home that became trans- 
formed from time to time to an 
alien residence that robbed him 
of any sense of belonging. 

Be kicked the K-back chair. 
The rugged honeycombed feath- 
erweight arced a good two me- 
ters into the air, bounced off the 
wall and fell back to tumble for 
a wEle around the room. 

Theo recollected all right, this 
morning the table had been blue, 
wider, longer-legged — and in the 
what? sewing room? Sewing! 
Who did sewing these days? Cer- 
tainly not Heidi, That’s if it was 
the same table. Theo cursed. So 
easy to reduce the old to a puff 
of powder, to refurmsh with' 
moldcraft for a few dollars. 

Theo pushed up the glo-slide. 



£8 



GALAXY 




The amber ceiling brightened to 
a streaky moming-sun yellow. 
The room did not benefit from 
the improved illumination. 

Theo viewed it with' mounting 
disgust. Taste and competence 
were absent. What had she called 
it, tfie samurai cell? It was an 
abortion. The umber walls had 
dark patches. The converter-ray 
coloring had been carelessly car- 
ried out unmasked on the spot 
and the silhouette of the li-chair 
was drawn in oily tints upon the 
floor. Slapped together, a daub, 
no finesse, no polish'. It was not 
meant to be permanent. It could 
alwajrs be changed. 

“I don’t want it!” 

Theo listened, momentarily 
shocked that he had uttered the 
thought so loudly. Then he said 
it again. “I don’t want it!” 

The house had been juggled 
around so many times that he 
could not differentiate between 
one and another. He remembered 
the zig-zag craze, and the curl- 
wall fad, and the V-A slope, and 
the not-so-long-ago multi-level 
with steps, steps, steps, up, down 
and everywhere. The wrinkle, the 
inner-piUar, the baroque, the 
Spamsh, the marbled. Only parts 
could he recall. He had never 
known any of these homes, or had 
time to associate and meld his 
personality into their fabric. 

Only one design could Theo 
remember in its entirety, and that 

HOMESPINNER 



was the very first one, the dream 
home he had selected from a 
catalogue. The demonstrators 
had first fashioned it on his base 
grid. Elegant, comfortable, sooth- 
ingly tinted and plearing to the 
eye, this home he could recall 
with pleasure. ' 

Then had come Heidi, who had 
turned out to be far less amen- 
able than he had anticipated. 
That first house Had lasted two 
whole months before Heidi, 
learning and investigating, had 
started experimenting with “ad- 
justments.” 

“I don’t want it, and I’m not 
having it,” Theo said, still some- 
what surprised at the force behind 
his declaration. “I’ve had enough. 
God, where’s the damned front 
door?” 

Theo retraced his steps, no- 
ticed a narrow niche that led to 
the front exit, turned into it. 

Ct^'T^heo! What is it? Where 
are you going?” 

The front door was stuck; he 
wrestled it open. “I’m collapsing 
the house,” he said. 

“What? Theo, you can’t do 
that after I’ve spent all day ...” 
Unheeding, he crossed the bare 
patio and knelt by the track- 
liner control in the base-block. 

Her crisp footfalls followed 
him. “Theo, you’re not going to 
ruin everything I’ve done today?” 
He glared at her. “I can’t 

69 




stand it, do you Hear?” He un- 
locked the cover, slid it to one 
side. “I want a home I can live 
in. A home that doesn’t keep 
making demands of me all the 
time.” He reaped forward to the 
roof cut-out switch. 

“Oh, no, Theo, you can’t I You 
know you don’t like ...” 

Theo threw the lever across. 

Holes appeared in the roof- 
ceilings and swiftly expanded 
from the center to the walls. The 
wall lever next. The coated par- 
ticles, deprived of the motive 
power to maintain mutual repiol- 
sion, slowly sank together to the 
attracting force exerted by long 
thin trays. The ceiling trays came 
down with them, the connecting 
stays filaments coiling out into 
the floor along vath the dead- 
power-leads to the lightning po- 
larizer. The windows slid down 
in the melting substaince and at 
bottom leaned back to slowly 
fall with light phoomphs onto the 
floor. Softly phoomph also went 
the doors, released by the mag- 
strip hinges, which themselves 
arched and toppled, having bare- 
ly enough substance to tinkle. 
Flic-flims floated to the floor. 

Now the base was level. Mold- 
crafted furniture and C-U boards 
assembled into various forms 
stood out, starkly exposed and 
naked-looking. Lustrmyst sinks 
and washbowls, their static pin- 
ning removed, lay upon their 



sides, their drainpipes bent and 
trailing. Water tubes, relieved of 
winding, unraveled and sent the 
spigots crawling sluggardly over 
the platform. 

“No, no!” Heidi said;. “Theo, 
how could you?” 

“I want a proper home, and 
I’m going to see that it stays that 
way.” 

Theo pressed the floor-plan 
reference button. He still had an 
hour of twilight left. It would be 
enough time to set up the frame 
and roof — he’d take a day off 
and apply the finishing touches 
on the morrow. 

Paying no mind to Heidi, Theo 
began to check the base grid. 
This was now criss-crossed with 
thin sub-surface lines of many 
colors each color representing a 
layout suggestion. The color 
Theo sought to follow was red. 
He had grown to detest house re- 
arrangement, but now, very de- 
terminedly, he began to untack 
and re-align the wall trays him- 
self. 

t(XTow this,” Theo said, ”is a 
home.” 

“It’s antique,” Heidi replied 
stonily. "Obsolete. Architectural- 
ly archaic and unrewardingly 
over-simplistic.” 

“Heidi,” Theo said, his voice 
edged with exasperation, "7 like 
it Doesn’t that mean anything to 
you?” 



70 



GALAXY 




“Your taste is execrable,” she 
said. 

“Uhuh. You’ll change it around 
again at the first opportunity, 
right?” Theo said. 

“You don’t expect me to leave 
it like this?” She waved a dis- 
paraging hand. 

Theo rubbed tfie back of his 
neck. He had grown used to 
Heidi. She at least remained fa- 
miliar to him. He didn’t want to 
try again from scratch. It took 
so long. But . . . 

Theo sighed. Better to make a 
clean sweep while he was about 
it and start afresh. Or maybe do 
without. 

Theo went sadly to his valise 
and removed a little box. 

“What are you going to do?” 
Heidi said. 

“Good-bye, Heidi,” Theo an- 
swered regretfully, and shut a 
dial. 

There was a shiver in his own 
mind, and Heidi became smoky. 
Her clothes fell to the floor as 
the flimsy tributaries from her 
five main stems became slack. 
Particles poured pinkly into her 
shoes, the main stems buckled, 
and the oval blob of Theo’s 
subsidiary id responded, drooped 
down to rest upon the floor. 

Theo was sweating. He felt, 
with some reason, that he had 
just killed part of himself. 

God, how he Hated change! 

—JACK WODHAMS 




MUSIC OF 

TOMORROW 



Here is music composed on com- 
puter and transducers, ranging 
from computer-played versions of 
Christmas carols and rounds to the 
complex sounds that offer a new 
dimension in musicology. Composers 
include Dr. John R. Pierce, Dr. M. 
V. Mathews, David Lewin, James 
Tenny, etc, etc. 18 selections on a 
12-inch, high-fidelity, long-playing 
record produced by Decca. A 
“must” for your record library and 
a conversation piece for all occa- 
sions. Priced $S.7S postpaid — send 
in the coupon today. 

Galaxy Publishing Corp. 

421 Hudson Street, 

New York City 10014 

Yes, send me my 12-inch hi-fi 
record of Music from Mathematics 
right away. I enclose check or 
money order of $S.7S. 

Name 

Address 

Cty & State Zip Code .... 

(Offw good In U. S. A. Only) 



HOAAESPINNER 



71 




In a perfect world, crime is. for ■ 
the doddies. But there's always 
somebody who can figure the angles. 
Jllustrafed by, 




"O ex Moran dialed his wrist 
teevee phone for the time 
and looked at the clock face that 
appeared on the screen. A robot 
voice said, “When the bell rings 
it will be exactly two piinutes 



until eight hours.” A tiny bell 
rang. 

Rex Moran grunted and look- 
ed about the small apartmoit. 
He had better get going. 

First, though, he took his Uni- 
versal Credit Card from an in- 
ner pocket of his jerkin and in- 




serted it in tKe slot of Eis stand- 
ard teevee pHone whiicK sat on 
his living cum bedroom’s sole ta- 
ble. He said into the screen, 
“Credit balance check, please.” 

Within moments, a robot voice 
said, “Ten shares of Inalienable 
Basic. No shares of Variable Ba- 
sic. Current cash credit, one dol- 
lar and twenty-three cents.” 

“One dollar and twenty-three 
cents,” he muttered. “Holy liv- 
ing Zoroaster. I didn’t think I’d 
have to start with that little on 
hand." 

He dialed Credit and waited 
until a face faded in on the 
screen. It was a businesslike, 
brisk, possibly impatient, face. 

“Jason May, here. Assistant 
Credit Manager, Inalienable Ba- 
sic Dividends," he said. 

Rex Moran put his Uni-Credit 
Cord on the screen and said, 
“I’d like an advance on my div- 
idends.” 

The other was seated at a desk. 
“Just a moment, please,” he said 
and touched a button. He lis- 
tened to a report on a desk phone 
screen then looked back at Mor- 
an. “You’re already two months 
ahead.” 

“I know that,” Rex Moran said 
doggedly, “but it’s an emergen- 
cy.” 

“It is always an emergency, 
Mr. Moran,” tire other said flat- 
ly. “What is the emergency? Your 
records show that you are al- 



most invaria!hl^ as fat aBead as 
you ccm get ott 3rout monthly 
dividends. As you must know, 
the government charges interest 
on such advances. In the long 
run, Mr. Moran, you lose." 

“I know, I know," Rex Mor- 
an said, an element of complaint 
in his voice. “I’ve had a long set 
of bad luck. One thing after an- 
other.” 

“What is the current emer- 
gency, please?” 

Rex Moran wished he had 
thought this out in more detail 
before launching into his fling. 
He said, “I’ve got a sick brotli- 
er, I have to go help.” 

“Where is this brother, Mr. 
Moran?” 

“In Panama City.” 

“One moment, please.” The 
other went back to one of his 
desk screens. In only moments, 
he looked up again with a sigh. 
“Mr. Moran, the computer banks 
have no records of you having a 
brother at all, in Panama City or 
anywhere else. Request denied. 
And Mr. Moran ...” 

“Yeah?” Rex Moran said in 
disgust. 

“It is a minor offense to lie to 
a credit manager in attempt to 
secure an advance on dividends. 
I shall take no action on this oc- 
casion, but the fact will be en- 
tered on your record in the com- 
puter banks.” 

“Oh, great,” Rex Moran growl- 

73 



CRIMINAL IN UTOPIA 




ed. He flicked off his screen. “I 
didn’t expect that to work any- 
way,” he muttered. 

TlTe thought over his plans for 
a few minutes, then squared 
his shoulder^' and dialed the lo- 
cal branch of the ultra-market, 
on his auto-deUvery box. He was 
a man in his early thirties, mild- 
ly burly in build and with a not 
really unpleasant but a broken 
face of one who has either seen 
military combat, or perhaps been 
a pugilist. In actuality, neither 
was the case. 

The ultra-market in the screen, 
he dialed the children’s toy sec- 
tion, boys’ toys, and then mili- 
tary t3T3e t 03 TS. He finally nar- 
rowed it down to guns and dial- 
ed one that came to only seventy- 
cents. It would have to do. He 
put his Uni-Credit Card in the 
slot, his thumbprint on the screen 
and ordered the toy. 

Within minutes, it was in the 
auto-delivery box, and he put 
it in the side pocket of his jerk- 
in. It was on the smallish side, 
but black and at any distance at 
all realistic enough for his pur- 
pose. 

He moved over to his library 
booster teevee screen and dialed 
a newspaper, then the paper of 
two weeks previous, and the 
obituaries. 

He went through several pa- 
pers before he found the one 



that seemed most likely, by the 
address and the information in 
the item, and made some notes 
with his stylo. 

Finally, he dialed the address 
and waited imtil a face faded in 
on his phone screen. 

The other frowned at him, in 
lack of recognition. 

Rex Moran said, “Mr. Vassil- 
is? My name is Roy McCord.” 
The other was a tired looking 
obvious aristocrat, perhaps a few 
years the other side of sixty. 

Still frowning, he said, “What 
can I do for you, Mr. McCord?” 
‘T just got back into town and 
heard the bad news. I’m a friend 
— forgive me, Mr. VassQis — 
was a friend of Jerry Jerome.” 
The other’s face lightened 
slightly and then went sad, “Ah', 
I see. I am afraid he hadn’t men- 
tioned your name, but then 
Jerome had many friends of 
whom I knew little.” 

“Yes, sir. I’d like the oppor- 
tunity to offer my condolences 
in person,” Rex Moran began. 

The older man was frowning 
slightly and began to respond. 

But Moran hurried on. “But 
I also have something of Jerry’s 
that I suppose should go to you.” 
Rex Moran managed to look 
slightly embarrassed. “Well, sir, 

I . . . well, I think it would be 
better if I just brought it over.” 
The other was mystified. How- 
ever, he shrugged. “Very well. 



74 



GALAXY 




iimg man. Let me see, I shall 
r free at, say nine hours this 
Homing, and should be able to 
Ive you a few minutes.” 

"Fine, sir. I’U be there.” Rex 
Moran switched off the screen 
■rfore the other could say any- 
hlng further. 

For a moment He stared down 
1 1 the blank screen, then shifted 
'iiuscles in his shoulders. ‘Tirst 
lep,” he said. "So far, so good. 
Maybe I shouldn’t have used 
'Ills phone, but in the long run 
II won’t make any difference.” 

H e didn’t take the vacuum 
tube transport from his own 
I'uilding, knowing that a record 
'vas kept of all trips in the com- 
iUlter banks, and the johin-fuzz 
might trace back later on his 
Uni-Credit Card number. In- 
•itead, he walked several blocks 
imd entered a public terminaL 
He looked up at the map and 
"elected another terminal a 
i»uple of blocks from his des- 
ilnation, then entered the next 
Iwenty-seater going through’ that 
I>oint. After putting his credit 
'•ard in the payment slot, he 
realized that with the buying of 
(he toy gun, he probably had only 
fl few cents left to his balance. He 
illdn’t even have enough credit 
to get back to his apartment if 
this little romp pickled. What a 
laugh that would give the boys 
If he had to walk home. 



He left the vacuum-tube trans- 
port terminal and walked to the 
building where VassiHs hved. 
This was the crucial point now. 
If there were others present, his 
plan had come a cropper. How- 
ever, if he had read between the 
lines correctly, the senior Mr. 
Vassilis lived alone in his apart- 
ment in this swank neighbor- 
hood. 

There was an identity screen 
on the front entry. Keeping his 
fingers crossed that his Universal 
Credit Card wouldn’t be required 
for entrance, he said into the 
screen, “Roy McCord, on ap- 
pointment to see Mr. Frank Vas- 
silis.” 

The door opened, and he en- 
tered. 

There were two elevators. He 
entered one and said, “The 
apartment of Frank Vassilis.” 

The Vassilis apartment was on 
the top floor but one. Rex Moran 
got out of the elevator, found a 
door with the Vassilis name on 
it and activated the door screen. 
When it lit up, he said into it, 
“Roy McCord, calling on Mr. 
Vassilis, by appointment.” 

The door opened, and he step- 
ped through. 

And came to a halt. The man 
standing there in a dark smt was 
not the Mr. Vassilis he had spo- 
ken to earlier on the teevee phone. 
This worthy was a stiffitdi type, 
of possibly fifty. His eyes went 



CRIMINAL IN UTOPIA 



75 




up and down Rex Moran super- 
ciliously, taking in the less than 
elegant suit, taking in the rugged 
features. 

He s^d, “Yes, sir. Mr. Mc- 
cord? The master is awaiting 
you in his escape room.” 

The master? Holy jumping 
Zoroaster, Vassilis had a man 
servant. Whoever heard of per- 
sonal servants in this day and 
age? The obituary had hinted that 
the old boy was upperclass, but 
Moran hadn’t been thinking in 
terms of something so rich as an 
establishment with a servant. 

However, he followed along. It 
was the largest apartment he 
could off-hand ever remember be- 
ing in. They went down one hall, 
turned ri^t and down another 
one. 

There wasn’t even an identity 
screen on the door before which 
they stopped. The servant knock- 
ed gentty and opened the door 
before there was any reply. Evi- 
denlly, old Vassilis was expect- 
ing him, all right 

The servant stood stiffly and 
said, “Mr. McCord.” 

T he elderly man Rex Moran 
had talked to on the teevee 
phone earlier looked up from 
where he sat in a comfort chair, 
a smidl magnifying glass in one 
hand, a dozen or so stamps on a 
snadl table before him. He was 
evidently a idiilatelist 

74 



He said, “AH, yes, Mr. R( 
McCord, Jerome^s friend. Pleai 
c(»ne in.” As the servant had b 
fore hini, he took in Moran 
clothing and general i^pearano 
and his eyebrows went up sliglj 
ly. “Now, what is it I can do f( 
you, Mr. McCord?” 

Rex Moran looked at the sen 
ant 

Vassilis said, “That will be al 
Franklin.” 

Franklin turned and left, cloi 
ing the door quietly behind hin 

No need to mince around. R« 
Moran brought the toy gun frot 
hfe pocket briefly, let the oth’« 
see it, and returned it to his sid 
pocket, but still holding it ii 
his hand. , 

He said, "This is a romp. Mi 
Vassilis.” 

The otiier goggled at him. “Yoi 
. . . you mean you are a thief 
That you got into my home oi 
false pretenses?” 

Moran let his face go empty 
“I wouldn’t put it that way 
Let’s just say that I’m tired ol 
not getting my share of the caki 
And since the powers that b( 
won’t give it to me, I’m takin( 
it” 

The old man stared at him 
“You are a fool, young man.” 

“Maybe, maybe not” Rei 
Moran jiggled the gun in his sidi 
pocket, suggestively. 

“Being a thief doesn’t mak( 
sense in this day. Society hai 

GALAXY 




made arrangements, to defend it- 
self against tlie tluef. There’s not 
enough profit in petty crime to 
pay oti” 

Rex ^oran grinned at Him 
souriy. “I didn’t exactly have 
petty crime in mind, Mr. Vas- 
silis. Now, Hand me 3 rour credit 
card.” 

“What other kind of crime is 
possible? Nobody but I can 
spend my dollar credits. I can’t 
give them away, gamble them 
away, throw them away, be 
cheated out of them. Only I 
can spend my dividends.” 

“We’ll see about that.” Rex 
Moran nodded. “Now, let’s have 
your Universal Credit Card.” He 
jiggled the gun in his pocket 
again. 

The older man contemptuously 
took a beautiful leather wallet 
from an inner pocket and 
brought forth a standard Uni- 
Credit Card. He handed it over. 

Moran said, “You have a 
vacuum delivery box in this 
room? Oh, yeah, here we are. 
Zoroaster, look at the size of itl 
Now that’s the advantage of be- 
ing an upperclass like you, Mr. 
Vassilis. You should see the teeny 
auto-delivery box in my mini- 
apartment. If I want an 3 dhing of 
any aze at all, I’ve got to use 
the box down in the lobby of the 
crummy building I’m in. Now, 
with a nice big auto-delivery box 
like this anything you wanted 

78 



would have to be. really super 
size before you couldn’t get i 
delivered right here into you 
escape room.” 

Vassilis said, “You are a fool 
young man. The officials will b 
after you in no time flat.” 

Moran grinned at him and sa 
down before the box, keeping oni 
eye on the other. He put the can 
in the teevee screen’s slot anc 
said, “Credit balance, please.” 

A robot voice said, “Ten share 
of Inalienable Basic. Two thou' 
sand and forty-six shares ol 
Variable Basic. Current cash 
credit, forty-two thousand and 
twenty-nine dollars and eighteen 
cents.” 

Rex Moran whistled. “Two- 
thousand - and - forty-six-shares- 
of-Variablel” 

Vassilis grunted contempt of 
him. 

TV yroran dialed the ultra-mar- 
ket, then sports, then fire- 
arms, then handguns. He finally 
selected a .38 RecoUess and dial- 
ed it and a box of cartridges. 

He thought for a moment, then 
dialed photography and select- 
ed a Poloroid-Pentax and some 
film for it. 

“Might as well do this up 
brown,” he said conversational- 
ly to the older man. “Might as 
well put a Onerous hole in that 
credit balance.” 

“There’ll be no hole — as you 

GAIAXY 




call it — at all,” Vassilis said 
bitterly. “When I report this 
thievery, the authorities will re- 
turn to my account the sum in- 
volved in any deprecations you 
have performed.” 

Rex Moran dialed men’s cloth- 
ing and took his time selecting 
a full outfit, including shoes. 

“Now, this is the crucial point,” 
he said thoughtfully, to no one 
In particular. He dialed jewelry 
and finally selected a two-thou- 
aand-dollar diamond ring. 

“I guess that’s it,” he said. 
Then, “Oh, one other thing.” He 
dialed sports again, and camping, 
and eventually a length of rope. 

He turned back to Frank Vas- 
lilis. “And now, old man, come 
on over here and stick your 
thumbprint on this order screen.” 

“Suppose I refrtse?” 

Rex Moran grinned at him. 
“Why should you? Like you said, 
when you report this, the au- 
thorities will return your credit 
dollars to you and come looking 
for me. You’re not losing any- 
thing.” 

The older man, grumbling, 
came erect in his chair. He came 
over to the auto-delivery box 
and, with a sneer of contempt 
for his intruder, stuck his right 
thumb print on the screen. 

Moments later, the articles had 
arrived. 

Vassilis returned to his comfort 
chair. 



Rex Moran began fishing the 
articles he had ordered from the 
box. He loaded the gun, put it 
next to him, within handy reach 
and then dressed in his new 
clothes. He took up the camera 
and slung it over his shoulder. 
He looked at the ring admiring- 
ly and tucked it away in an in- 
ner pocket, and then the gun. 

He muttered, “I have half a 
mind to order a few more of these 
but that big a drain on your ac- 
count all at the same time might 
throw some relays aiwl have the 
computer people check back.” 

’‘Thief," Vassilis said bitterly. 

Moran grinned at him, “What’s 
your beef? It won’t be you who 
loses.” 

He took up the rope. “First 
we’U tie you up a bit, old chum- 
pal, and then we’ll call in Frank- 
lin, or whatever you called him, 
and do a job on him.” 

"You’ll never get away with 
this, you young cloddy,” the old 
man bit out. 

“Famous last words,” Moran 
grinned back at him. 

II 

T)ack on the street, he realized 
it was going to be necessary 
to walk to his next destination. 
His credit standing simply did 
not allow even such a small sum 
as riding in the vacuum tubes. 
However, happily, it wasn’t as 



CRIMINAL IN UTOPIA 



79 




far as all tliat. As Ke walked, 
lie took tiie toy gun from his 
pocket and threw it into a waste 
rec^tade. He Ead tEe rest! thin g 
now. 

He found- the neighborhood and 
Ead a choice of three alterna- 
tives. He took the smallest of the 
shops and entered. 

There were even a few display 
cases. How anachronistic could 
you get. He grunted sour amuse- 
ment to himsdf; here was the 
last of the kulaks, the last of the 
small businessmen. 

A quiet man of about fifty en- 
tered from a back room and took 
Rex in before sasdng in a soft 
voice, “Yes, sir, what can I do 
for you?” 

Rex Moran went into his act. 
Hesitantly, he said, “I under- 
stand that you sometimes buy 
phonal property.” 

“That is correct. Buy and sell. 
But what type of property, 
Mr. . . . ?” 

“Adams,” Rex Moran said. 
“Timothy Adams. I have a ring 
that used to belong to my moth- 
er. It is of no value to me, now, 
and I thought . . . well, I might 
as well realize what dollar credit 
value it has.” 

“I see. Please sit down, Mr. 
Adams. Heirloom jewdry is 
a bit of a drug on the market, 
but we can take a look.” He sat 
himself behind a desk and mo- 
tioned to a strai^t chair. 

8 « 



Rex Moran sat down and 
brought the diamond ring from 
his pocket and proffered it. The 
other took it and set it on the 
table. He looked at Rex Moran 
thoughtfully. “This is a very 
modem setting, Mr. Adams. I 
had gained the impression that 
it was an older piece your moth- 
er had left you.” 

“Oh, no,” Rex Moran said. 
“She bought it not too very long 
before she died. If I had a wife, 
or someone, I might give it to 
her, but I haven’t.” 

The other looked at him even- 
ly. “Mr. Adams, I am not a 
fence, you know. This is a legiti- 
mate business.” 

“Fence?” Rex Moran said 
blankly. 

“I buy and sell such items as 
art objects and jewelry, but I 
do not receive stolen goods. 
Where did you say your mother 
bought this?” 

“On a vacation in Common 
Eur-Asia. In Budapast, I think, 
or possibly Belgrade.” 

“So it would be untraceable 
here in the United States of the 
Americas.” 

“Why, it never occurred to 
me.” 

The shop owner took up the 
ring and looked at it thought- 
fully. He brought a jeweler’s 
glass from a drawer and peered 
through it. 

He put it down finally and 
GALAXY 





looked at Rex Moran, “I’ll give The shop owner put the ring 
you two hundred dollars for it.” in a drawer, brought forth his 
“Two hundred dollars! My own Universal Credit Card and 
mother said she paid more than put it into the other exchange 
two thousand.” slot. He said into the screen, 

“Then she paid too much. The “Please transfer the amount of 
markup on jewelry is very high, three himdred dollars from my 
Mr. Adams, and such items as account to this other card.” 
this can take a very long time A robot voice said, “Trans- 
to move.” fer completed.” 

Rex Moran thought about it. Rex Moran retrieved his Uni- 
“Make it three hundred.” Credit Card and came to his feet. 

The other considered that. “I still think I was robbed,” he 
“Very well,” he said finally. “But muttered. 

I am making a mistake.” The other said nothing, sim- 

“Yeah,” Rex Moran said sour- ply sat there and watched after 
ly. He brought his Uni-Credit him as Rex Moran left the shop. 
Card from his pocket and stuck 

It into one of the slots on the had three Hun- 

other’s Exchange Screen. ^ » dred dollars to fii§ account. 



CRIMINAL IN UTOPIA 



81 



That was a damn sight less than 
he had expected to get However, 
he hadn’t dared buy a more ex- 
pensive piece of jewelry than the 
two thous^d dollar piece, on 
Vassilis’ credit card. There would 
have been more of a chance of 
the ^op owner checking on such 
an item. More chance of it be- 
ing able to be traced. Besides, 
if he had drained Vassilis’ ac- 
count too badly, there might have 
been a computer check at that 
point. 

He strode rather rapidly to 
the nearest vacuum-tube trans- 
port terminal and into it, wanting 
to get out of the neighborhood 
as quickly as possible. He took 
a two-seater vehicle to the 
downtown area the pseudo- 
city, if a pseudo-city can be said 
to have a downtown area. 

When he left the vacuinn tube, 
it was to emerge in the vicinity 
of several restaurants. It was 
just about noon, but since he 
hadn’t been able to afford break- 
fast, he was feeling hunger. Well, 
three hundred dollars was three 
hundred dollars, and he might 
as well blow himself to a fairly 
good repast in an auto-cafeteria. 

He selected one and sat him- 
self down at a table and stared 
down at the menu listed on the 
table top. To hell with any- 
thing based on Antarctic krill, 
plankton protein, or soy beans; 
he was up to some real animal 



protein and Zoroaster could take 
the cost. 

He put his credit card in the 
table slot, his thumbprint on 
the screen and dialed chicken 
and a mug of sea-booze. He 
would have liked a shot of 
pseudo-whisky to begin, but his 
funds weren’t that unlimited. 

His wrist teevee phone buzzed, 

He looked down at it in some 
surprise. He had it set on Num- 
ber One Priority, and only two 
people in the world were eligi- 
ble to break in on him on that 
priority, and he certainly was 
not expecting a call from either. 

But there was a strange face in 
the tiny screen. Strange and se- 
vere. 

The voice said, “This is Dis- 
tribution Service, Subdivision 
Police. Rex Moran, you are un- 
der arrest for attempt to violate 
regulations pertaining to useage 
of the Universal Credit Card. Re- 
port immediately to the nearest 
Police Administrative Station. 
Failure to do so will compound 
the felony.” 

“Get lost, fuzz-john,” Re.x 
Moran snarled. He snapped the 
instrument off, then stared down 
at the blank screen in dismay. 
What had gone wrong? Especial- 
ly, what had gone wrong so 
quickly? It had to be something 
to do with hi^ selling that damn- 
ed ring. But what? He had ex- 
pected the ring to stay in that 



82 



GALAXY 




tiny shop, waiting for a custo- 
mer for months, perhaps even 
years. And even then, when it 
was resold, the transaction should 
never have appeared on the com- 
puter records, except as an ex- 
change of dollar credit from the 
purchaser’s account to the shop- 
keeijer’s. 

What foul luck! Vassilis must 
have put in an immediate alarm, 
and the police must have con- 
tacted every place in town where 
Rex Moran could possibly dis- 
pose of the purloined ring. 

T Te had to think fast They’d 
be after him now. Damn and 
double damn. He wouldn’t even 
be able to return to his mini- 
apartment He was on the run, 
and for a meaningless amount 
such as three hundred dollars, 
and even that now was of no use. 
He wouldn’t dare use his credit 
card; the computers were surely 
watching for him. 

They could also zero-in on 
his wrist teevee phone. He reach- 
ed down, in disgust, and began 
to rip it off. However, the screen 
lit up again, and a new face was 
there. 

A voice rasped, “Now hear 
this, all citizens. Crimes against 
the government of the United 
States of the Americas have 
been committed by Rex Moran, 
including assault, robbery, sale 
of stolen property and attempt- 

CRIMINAL IN UTOPIA 



ed misuse of the Universal Cred- 
it Card. All citizens are request- 
ed to cooperate in his apprdien- 
^on. The criminal is dangerous 
and armed. Here is his face.” 

Rex groaned when his face ap- 
peared on the tiny screen. Hap- 
pily, it was a fairly old photo, 
and taken before some of his 
present scarred features had be- 
come what they were. 

He ripped the instrument from 
his wrist and flung it into a cor- 
ner. At this early hour there 
were none others present in the 
auto-cafeteria, thank the living 
Zoroaster for that. 

He came to his feet and hur- 
ried for the door. In the far dis- 
tance, he could hear a siren. Un- 
doubtedly, it was for him. You 
didn’t hear police sirens that 
often in the pseudo-cities of the 
Ultra-welfare State. 

He hurried down the street 
and turned a comer as quickly 
as possible. He dared not use 
the vacuum tube. He dared not 
summon a floater, for that mat- 
ter. 

But that brought something to 
mind. 

He found a fairly isolated spot 
and waited until a pedestrian 
came along. He brought his gim 
from his pocket and said, “Hold 
it, chum-pal.” 

The other looked at him down 
at the gun, up into Rex Moran’s 
face again and blanched. “Why, 

83 




why you’re the criminal just 
flashed on the teevee.” 

“That’s right, cKiim-pal, and 
you look just like the sort of 
chum-pal who’d cooperate with 
a man with ^ shooter trained on 
his tummy.” 

The other was wide-eyed and 
ashen. “Why . . . why, of course.” 
“Okay. Quick now, dial a 
floater on your wrist teevee 
phone.” 

“Of course, of course. Don’t be 
nervous.” 

“I’m not nervous.” Rex Mor- 
an grinned at him and jiggled 
the gun up and down. “Hurry it 
up.” 

The other dialed, and within 
moments an auto-floater cab 
turned the comer and pulled up 
next to them at the curb. The 
door opened. 

Rex said, “Quick, put your 
Uni-Credit Card in the slot” 
Even as the other was doing 
so, Moran was climbing into the 
back seat of the floater. He rasp- 
ed, “Put your thumbprint on the 
screen.” While the other did that, 
Rex Moran was dialing his des- 
tination, not letting the other see. 

He reached out suddenly and 
grasped the other’s wrist teevee 
phone and ripped it off and stuck 
it in his pocket. He pulled the 
credit card from the floater’s 
slot and handed it back to his 
victim. 

“There,” he said, "don’t say I 



didn't do you a favor. Think of 
all the trouble you’d have if you 
didn’t have a credit card.” 

■TT e slammed the door shut and 
the floater took off. 

Rex Moran said into the ve- 
hicle’s screen, “Maximum speed, 
please.” 

A robot voice said, “Yes, sir.” 

He couldn’t afford to stay in 
the floater for very long. Just 
enough to get out of this neigh- 
borhood. As soon as that cloddy 
he had just stuck up back there 
reported to the police, they’d 
check through the computers for 
the floater’s destination. There’d 
be a record, based on the num- 
ber of the victim’s Uni-Credit 
Card. A record of everything 
seemingly went into the com- 
puter banks. Why not? He growl- 
ed sourly; evidently there capac- 
ity was almost infinite. 

Yes, they’d check the destina- 
tion of his trip. However, he was 
not quite so siUy as to go all the 
way to the destination he had 
dialed. About half way there, at 
a traffic control stop, he opened 
the door and left the floater to 
go on its own. 

He ducked down a side street 
and took off at right angles to 
the avenue along which the floater 
was progressing. 

Rex Moran now Had a double 
problem. He grimaced wryly. 
An immediate double problem. 



84 



GALAXY 




that was. For one thing, He was 
still hungry. For another, he had 
to get off the streets. Citizens 
weren’t apt to pay overmuch at- 
tenticMi to the Distribution Serv- 
ice police calls over the teevee 
phone screens, but there was al- 
ways the exertion. Given time, 
someone would spot and report 
him, in spite of the poor photo- 
graph which just had been 
broadcast. 

He could hear the stolen wrist 
teevee phone buzz in his pocket 
and brought it forth, flicking the 
tiny stud which prevented it 
from transmitting his face. 

It was the same official as be- 
fore, and he was making the 
same broadcast, but now report- 
ing Rex Moran as last seen in 
that part of town where he had 
dialed the floater. Evidently, his 
victim had rep>orted. 

That also meant they would 
know that Moran had the stolen 
wnst teevee phone and would 
shortly be zeroing in on it. He 
threw the instrument into the 
gutter and ground a heel down 
on it 

He had to get off the streets. 

And suddenly he knew where 
to go. 

In this vicinity there was a 
posh restaurant of which he had 
heard but had never been able 
to afford, nor had he really ever 
expected to be able to afford it 
Well, things were different now. 



TTe entered the building and 
took the elevator to the 
pothouse restaurant known as 
the Gourmet Room. The day was 
more advanced now, and upper- 
class office workers were begin- 
ning to stream in for the mid- 
day meal. 

He avoided looking impressed 
at the ost^tatious swank of this 
rendezvous of the ultra-wealthy 
and thanked his stars that he 
had thought of acquiring his 
present clothing. A hcadwaiter 
approached diffidently. In all his 
life, Rex Moran had never eaten 
in a restaurant which boasted 
live waiters. Now he tried to 
look unimpressed. 

“A single, sir?” the maitre 
d’hote! said. 

“Please," Rex Moran told him, 
keeping his voice softly modu- 
lated and as though such sur- 
roundings were an every day af- 
fair for him. “If possible, a table 
set back somewhere. I have a 
bit of figuring to do.” 

“Certainly, sir. This way.” 

He was seated in an out of the 
way alcove which suited his 
needs perfectly. 

The maitre d’ snapped his fin- 
gers, and a waiter scurried up. 

There was no menu. It was 
that kind of a restaurant. 

The maitre d’ said unctuously, 
“Sir, today the Giatin de lan- 
goustines Georgette is superb.” 

Rex Moran hadn’t the vaguest 



CRIMINAL IN UTOPIA 



85 




idea what langousiines Georgette tax from his shoulder and 
might be, but he made a face as brought from his p>ocket the cas- 
though considering. sette of film. He inserted it in 

“What else might you recom- the camera. Then he took from 
mend?” he said. his inner pocket the Universal 

“The chef h|ts surpassed him- Credit Card he had appropriated 

self with the poulet docteur.” from Frank Vassilis and exam- 

“That sounds good.” ined it with care, spending par- 

The waiter made a note. ticular time on the thumbprint. 

“And a half bottle of Sylvaner Finally, he propped the card 
of the Haut-Rhin, p>erhaps?” against the small vase in the ta- 
“Fine.” ble center, which held a single 

Salad and dessert were settled black rose, and focused the cam- 
upon, and then the maitre d’ and era on it. He clicked the shutter 
the waiter were gone. then drew the photo from the 

Rex Moran sighed inwardly camera back and stared at it. It 
and looked around. The only didn’t quite do. He tried again, 
other diner within his immediate getting the camera closer to th’e 
vicinity had his back to Moran, subject. He took half a dozen 
He unslung the Poloroid-Pen- shots before he came up with as 






near a duplicate of the Univers- 
al Credit Card’s thumbprint as 
he could hope for. 

He put the credit card away, the 
camera back in its case, and 
brought forth his penknife. He 
was busily trimming the photo 
to be the exact size of a thumb- 
print when the waiter turned up 
with his first course. 

Poulet docteuT turned out to 
be the best chicken dish he had 
ever tasted. And the wine was 
excellent. 

T n the middle of his salad 
-*■ course, and before dessert, 
he came suddenly to his feet and 
hurried toward the reception desk 
cum cashier’s booth. It was there 
that the payment screen for the 
ultra-swank restaurant was to be 
found. 

And it was there that the mai- 
tre d’hotel stood his eyebrows 
policy raised now. 

Rex Moran said to him hur- 
riedly, “I have just thought of 
something I must attend to. 
Please hold my dessert for me. 
And, please, keep an eye on my 
camera over there, will you?” 

The maitre d* looked over at 
Moran’s table. The camera sat 
upon it. He said, “Why, of 
course, sir.” 

Rex Moran left, still project- 
ing an air of a suddenly remem- 
bered matter that must urgently 
be taken care of. 



Down on the street he grim- 
aced. One camera sacrificed to 
the game. However, he had no 
need of it now. 

He was stiU in one of the best 
sections of town. He made his 
way toward a nearby hotel, hold- 
ing a handkerchief over his face, 
as though trying to extract some- 
thing from his left eye. There 
were quite a few pedestrians at 
this time of the day. 

In the hotel, he approached 
the lone clerk at the reception 
desk. Now, he had to take his 
chances. If the man recognized 
him from the police broadcast — ■ 
Rex Moran was on a spot. 

He said, “I would like a small 
suite. Nothing ambitious. Liv- 
ing room, bedroom, bath. I doubt 
if I’ll be entertaining.” 

‘Why, yes sir, of course.” The 
other looked beyond Moran. “Ali, 
your luggage, sir?” 

“I have no luggage,” Rex Mor- 
an said, off-handedly. “I just 
came in from the coast. Plan to 
do some shopping here for my 
wardrobe. Always buy my things 
here in the East. California 
styles are ludicrous.” 

“Yes sir, of course.” The clerk 
motioned in the direction of the 
teevee screen slot on the desk. 
“Would you wish to register?” 
“I’d rather see the suite, be- 
fore deciding,” Rex Moran said. 
“I’ll register up there, if it’s sat- 
isfactory.” 



CRIAAINAL IN UTOPIA 



87 




“OH, I’m sure it will be, sir. 
Let me suggest Suite Double A.” 

“Double A,” Rex Moran said 
and made his way to the bank 
of elevatoiB. 

Inside the first elevator, he 
said, “Suite Double A.” 

“Yes, sir,” a robot voice said. 

Suite Double A was several 
stories up. Rex Moran emerged 
from the elevator, looked up at 
the direction signs on the wall 
and made his way to the suite in 
question. 

It was quite the most elabo- 
rate quarters in which Rex Mor- 
an had ever been. Not that tlmt 
was ihe issue, he would have 
taken the accommodations what- 
ever they had resembled. 

He approached the room’s tee- 
vee phone screen and said into it, 
“This suite seems adequate. I’ll 
take it” 

A robot voice said, “Very good, 
sir. If you’ll just put your Uni- 
Credit Card in the slot.” 

Rex Moran took a deep breath. 
He brought the card of Frank 
Vassihs from his pocket insert^ 
ed it in the slot Then he brought 
forth the photo he had taken of 
the Vassilis right thumbprint and 
laid it on the screen. He picked 
it up again, immediately. 

A lobpt voice said, “Thank 
you, sir.” 

Rex Moran took another deep 
breath and let it his$ out again 
between Bs teeth. 

88 



“Zo-ro-as-ter. I think it work- 
ed.” 

Ill 

T T e dialed the time. It was mid- 
afternoon. 

He grinned exuberantly. He 
had it licked. Unless there was 
something he didn’t know about, 
he absolutely had it licked. 

He dialed Service and said in- 
to the screen, “I’d like to lay in 
a stock of potables. Let me see. 
Let’s say a bottle of Scotch, one 
of cognac, one of Metaxa, one of 
Benedictine, one of Cherry Her- 
ling, one of Chartreuse — yellow, 
of course, not the gsem — oae 
of Pernod, absinthe if avaihibfe 
but otherwise the ordinary snil 
dev.” 

A robot voice said, “Sir, in the 
New Carlton aH these can be 
dialed on the auto-bar.” 

“I know, I know, but I like to 
mix my own.” 

“Very good, sir. They will be 
delivered through the auto-bar, 

SIT. 

“Mind,” Rex Moran said, “the 
very best quality.” 

“Always, sir.” 

Still grinning widely, he went 
over to the suite’s auto-bar and 
took up the bottle of Glengrant 
Scotch and held it up to the 
tight approvingly. In his whole 
life he had been lushed-up exact- 
ly once on Scotch. The stuff was 

GALAXY 




worth! its weight in rubies since 
Cmtral Production had discon- 
tinued the use of cereals for bev- 
erages. 

He dialed for soda and apped 
away at it approvingly, even as 
he strode up and down the room, 
considering his immediate future. 

He wondered briefly How you 
went about getting a mopsy up 
to your quarters in a hostelry as 
posh as the New Carlton. But 
he had better draw the line there, 
anjrway. It was no use pushing 
your luck. Some wheel might 
come off. She might have seen the 
police teevee alarm on him. 

What the hell else was there 
in the way of unrealised life- 
long ambitions? 

Caviar. He had never had his 
fill of caviar. In fact, the amount 
of caviar he had eaten in his 
whale life could have come out 
of a two ounce jar of the precious 
stuff. 

Fine. He dialed Service again 
and had a pound jar of caviar 
sent up, along with sweet butter, 
toast, chopped eggs and chopped 
onion. While he was at it, he or- 
dered a large amount of smoked 
sturgeon and smoked salmon. 

While he waited for this order, 
he built himself another Scotch 
and soda. Glengrant. He’d have 
to remember that name, on the 
off chance that he’d ever have 
another opportunity such as this. 

He spent the rest of the day in- 



dulging himself in every food and 
drink ambition he could ever re- 
member having Had. And in get- 
ting well smashed and surfeited 
with rich edibles to the point 
that when dinner time arrived, 
he had no appetite, to his disgust 
He wanted to order a real gar- 
gantuan meal. 

His last vague memory was 
of staggering into the bedroom 
and dialing the bed to ultimate 
softness before throwing him- 
self into it. 

Tn the morning, he should have 
awakened with some sort of 
hangover, but the gods were still 
with him; either that or there 
was another good mark to chalk 
up for Glengrant whiskey. He 
awoke grinning up at the ceiling. 
He had slept like a log. 

He dialed the time at the bed- 
side teevee phone and didn’t 
bother to look into the screen 
at the clock. A robot voice said, 
“When the bell rings it will be 
exactly nine minutes to eight 
hours.” 

Hal Nine minutes to go. 

He dialed breakfast, a mon- 
strous breakfast, and had it deliv- 
ered to the auto-table next to the 
bed. Fresh mango juice, papaya, 
eggs in bladi butter, cavair again, 
toast, fried tomatoes, coffee; dou- 
ble coders of all. 

Groaning satisfaction, he ate. 

By the time breakfast was 



CRIMINAL IN UTOPIA 



89 




over, it was past eight o’clock. 

Alf ri^t. He grinned jubilant- 
ly, time to get busy. 

He went to the teevee pHone 
screen and dialed A'e local branch 
of the ultra-market and men’s 
furnishings. He took his time se- 
lecting a new change of clothing. 
That accomplished, he dialed the 
order, put Vassilis’ card in the 
slot and laid the photo of the 
thumbprint on the screen and 
took it off again immediately. 

The clothing arrived in minutes, 
and he dressed after showering 
and shaving in the bathroom. 

He returned to the teevee 
phone screen and dialed the ul- 
tra-market once again. He began 
ordering items, in fine discrimin- 
tion, and Had the time of his life 
upwrapping and examining them 
as they arrived. His loot piled up. 

At about ten o’clock, he de- 
cided to really do it up brown 
and dialed a floater sales out- 
let. He ordered a sports model 
private floater and instructed 
them to send it over to the ho- 
tel’s parking area on automatic. 

At ten minutes after ten, the 
identity screen on the door lit 
up. There were two men there, 
one in uniform. 

The one in plain clothes said 
disgustedly, “All right, come 
along.” 

The one in uniform looked at 
all the purchases strewn around 
the room, wrapping paper and 



string everywhere. “Zoroaster,” 
he snorted. 

^^hey took Him down the ele- 
vator, througH the lobby, out 
to the street where a police float- 
er awaited. The uniformed one 
drove manually. Rex Moran sat 
in the back with the other. 

The plainclothesman said sour- 
ly, “You must have had the time 
of your life.” 

Rex Moran laughed. 

“Big joke,” the other said. “We 
almost nabbed you there in the 
auto-cafeteria. We should have 
zeroed-in on you, instead of try- 
ing to arrest you by teevee 
phone.” 

“I wondered why you didn’t,” 
Rex Moran said. “Police ineffi- 
ciency.” 

They took him to the local of- 
fices of the Bureau of Distribu- 
tion Services, to an elevator, and 
then to the third floor where he 
was ushered into the presence of 
Marvin Ruhling himself. 

Ruhling looked at him and 
said, "Very funny, ordering even 
a sports floater.” 

Rex laughed and took a chair. 
The uniformed policeman left but 
the plainesclothesman also sat 
down. His face was as disgusted 
as that of the Supervisor. 

Marvin Ruhling said, "Holy 
jumping Zoroaster, what kind of 
heat do you think Vassilis is go- 
ing to stir up?” 



90 



GALAXY 




Rex Moran said reasonably, 
“NevCT let Him know wHat really 
happened. He wasn’t doing any 
harm. He had a little excitement.” 
“A little exffitement, you damn 
cloddy. Suppose he had dropped 
dead of a heart attack or some- 
thing? Not to mention tiiat pe- 
destrian you forced at gunpoint 
to get a floater for you.” 

Rex said, “Well, you asked for 
it. You wanted authenticity. You 
got it” 

“Authenticity,” the plainclothes- 
man grunted ^sgustedly. “Which 
reminds me, we better get that 
teevee police broadcast killed, or 
the next time Rex goes out on 
the street somdJody’U shoot him.” 
Ruhling said to Rex Moran, 
“Well, yorir conclusions?” 

“That we’ve got to do some- 
thing to the cards. Something to 
guarantee the thumbprint is le- 
gitimate. Otherwise, a real bad-o 
could locate some upperclass 
cloddy without any immediate 
friends or relatives, take him out 
somewhere and finish him off 
and hide the body, then take the 
Uni-Credit Card and head off in- 
to some other part of the coun- 
try and, using the same system 
I did, duplicate photographically 
the thumbprint. And for the 
rest his life he could milk the 
dividends that would accrue on 
the upperclass clodd3r’s credit ac- 
count from his Variable Basic.” 
Marvin RuHling looked at him 

92 



sourly. “What could we do to 
the credit cards?” 

“Search me. That’s up to the 
engineers. Maybe something in 
the card, or on the screen, to de- 
tect body heat. I don’t know. But 
I proved the cards vulnerable 
the way they are.” 

“What else?” 

Rex Moran thought about it. 
He ^ook his head. “I just men- 
tioned it to Fred, here, on the 
way over. That system of mak- 
ing a citizen arrest himself and 
turn himself over to the nearest 
police station doesn’t wash. Oh', 
I admit it saves manpower, or- 
dinarily, but when you get a clod- 
dy vicious enough to be carry- 
ing a shooter, then you should 
zero-in on his wrist teevee phone, 
assuming he’s silly enough to be 
carrying one, without warning.” 
“Rex is obviously right on that 
one,” the plainclothesman said. 

Marvin, Ruhling sighed deeply. 
“AU right,” he said. “You won 
your bet You were able to beat 
the rap, exist in comfort for a 
full twenty-four hours, without 
any dollar credits.” 

He glared at His imderling. 
“But I’d sure as the holy living 
Zoroaster like to see you do it 
six months from now, when I’ve 
cleared up some of those loop- 
holes you used.” 

Rex Moran grinned at him. 
“It’s a bet,” he said. 

—MACK REYNOLDS 

GALAXY 




artificial satellite which had 
reached orbit about one hour 
before midnight on January 31, 
1958. What made the celebra- 
tion even more joyous was the 
fact that Expiorer-I is still in or- 
bit; it is (and has been for a 
number of years) the oldest or- 
biting satellite. 

Everybody who had had any- 
thing to do with the project — 
including some who, like me, had 
only contributed moral support 
— was present, and the room re- 
verberated with reminiscences. 
On that historic night ten years 
earlier, the Explorer team had 
been split. General John B. Me- 
daris, commanding officer of 
ABMA (Army Ballistic Missile 
Agency, Huntsville, Alabama) 
and Dr. Kurt Debus, the launch 
chief, were at Cape Canaveral, 
v/hile Wemher von Braun (then 
of ABMA and responsible for the 
rocket) and William H. Picker- 
ing (of the Jet Propulsion Lab- 
oratory in Pasadena and respon- 
sible for instrumentation) were 
in Washington. That was a day 
where the long-lines department 
of the telephone company showed 
a peak profit. 

Actually the rocket, dubbed 
Jupiter-C No. 4, had been ready 
on January 28; but the shot had 
to be delayed for three dajrs be- 
cause of vmusual weather in the 
low stratosphere. There a steady 
current of air, called the jet 

94 



stream, crosses the United States, 
going from west to east. While it 
is always present, its speed is not 
always the same; and while it 
alwajrs blows from west to east it 
does not do so over the same lati- 
tude all the time. Sometimes it 
is much farther north than at 
other times. 

During the latter part of Jan- 
uary, 1958, it happened to be 
farther south than normal, name- 
ly over Florida, and the long 
thin Jupiter-C rocket might be 
broken in two if it entered the 
jet stream on a day when the jet 
stream was especially fast. It 
was quite clear that the shot 
could not be risked on either 
January 28 or 29. On the 30tH, 
the jet stream was still over Flor- 
ida, but it had slowed down a 
bit, to “only” 220 miles per hour. 
General Medaris ordered the 
rocket to be made ready except 
for the liquid oxygen which is al- 
waj^ put into the tank last. 
Meanwhile the speed of the jet 
stream had been ascertained by 
meteorological balloons and' the 
computer at ABMA produced an 
analysis. Medaris received a re- 
port saying highly marginal — 
we do not recommend that you 
try it and ordered a one-day 
postponement The next day the 
jet stream began drifting north- 
ward; and the outer portion, still 
over Florida, moved at the rate 
of 110 miles per hour; and that 

GALAXY 




w;as a speed through which ear- 
lier Jupiter-C rockets had been, 
flown without harm either to the 
rocket or to the results. It could 
be tried. Lift-off was 10:48:16 
PM Eastern Standard Time. 

P eople involved in countdowns 
always say that the last 
twenty minutes are the worst. 
By that time everything that 
needs doing has been done, and 
therefore everybody has twenty 
minutes in which to think of 
what may not have been done, or 
else what could possibly go 
wrong. Needless to say, the es- 
sence of these twenty minutes is 
compressed in the last two min- 
utes, but jiggly nerves can return 
to normal two minutes after lift- 
off, if nothing Has gone wrong 
by then. Five minutes after lift- 
off, orbit has been attained and 
all’s well. This is How thiiigs 
stand now, but Explorer-I was 
the first sucK shot. Nobody could 
claim that he had any experi- 
ence with satellite launches. And 
the instrumentation was incom- 
plete then. 

At about ten minutes after 
lift-off, the people on the ground 
at the Cape and in Washington 
only had two figures. One was 
the height above sea level of the 
satellite, which was 224 miles, 
more than enough for a good or- 
bit. The other figifre they Had 
was the velocity, which also was 

FOR YOUR INFOR/AATION 



enough for a good orbit. But 
what the incomplete instrumen- 
tation did not tell was whether 
the top stage, and with it Ex- 
plorer-I, moved in the right di- 
rection. The right direction was 
slightly up from the horizontal; 
the distance between satellite and 
the earth’s surface had to in- 
crease for half an orbit. But it 
was possible, yes, unfortunately 
it was possible that the motion 
was slightly down, which would 
produce a fiery re-entry a few 
thousand miles to the east, in a 
place where it could not even be 
spotted. 

“And then we waitedP’ some- 
body said across his glass to a 
few people whose worst experi- 
ence in waiting had been for an 
airliner delayed by bad weather 
or heavy traffic. 

In the case of this particular 
coxmtdown the worst waiting 
came sdtei the lift-off. The Rus- 
sians had put two heavyweight 
satellites into orbit, Sputnik-I 
on October 4, 1957 and Sputnik- 
II on November 3, 1937. They 
were rumored — correctly as it 
turned out — to be preparing 
Sputnik-III which was to be 
heavier than the first two put 
together. The United States had 
countered with Project Van- 
guard and that, at the moment, 
was the most publicized failure 
in history. The first Vanguard 
rocket had bren finally ready 

95 





Fig. 1. Two sotellife orbils having the same 
perigee altitude. For explanation see 
text. 



for the final ulcer-producing 
countdown in the morning of De- 
cember 6, 1957. At 11:44:35 AM 
it lifted off the launchpad, for 
just about one yard. Then it lost 
thrust, settled back, fell over and 
exploded. 

The more nervous members of 
the Explorer team felt that the 
Vanguard men had still been a 
little better off ; at least they 
had known immediately that 
they had a failure on their 
hands. The Explorer team had 
to wait for about 1 ^ hours 
until they could know whether 
they Had been successful or not. 
Of course the time when the big 
radar at Goldstone in California 
should catch Explorer- 1 had 
been calculated, and when that 
time came the crew at Goldstone 
remained silent. The reason be- 
came known soon — Explorer-I 
Had gone into a somewHat larger 
orbit tHan calculated; naturally 



it needed more time to complete 
it. By the time Goldstone could 
say that Explorer-I was in or- 
bit, it was a new day for tlie 
Cape and for Washington, though 
not yet on the West Coast. 

A s has been said in the open- 
ing paragraph, Explorer-I 
has been orbiting ever since, 
with its behavior such that it 
produced a veritable textbook 
example of a very slow but steady 
‘orbital decay.’ 

As everybody knows, most ar- 
tificial satellites go through n 
shrinking orbit and finally re-en- 
ter the atmosphere, where aero- 
dynamic heating vaporizes them, 
While this is general knowledge 
after ten years of news storic.i 
about artificial satellites, the 
reason for this eventual re-entry 
is generally not known, as I find 
out several times per year from 
questions asked of me after lec- 
tures. Many people seem to think 
that it is only ‘reasonable’ thal 
gravity wins out at the end. 

The actual victor is our at- 
mosphere. 

Look at Fig. 1. There we have 
a large elliptical orbit with iti 
apogee at alpha -L (for “large”) 
The perigee is supposed to be in- 
side the atmosphere at 125 milci 
or so where air molecules still 
get in the way of an orbiting sa- 
tellite. In accordance with Ke]i 
ler’s Second Law the velocity n( 



96 



GALAXY 




a satellite is highest at peri- 
gee and lowest at apogee. Each 
time the satellite goes through 
its perigee it has to fight residu- 
al air resistance. The result is a 
small loss of kinetic energy, or 
momentum, and the result of this 
loss is that the satellite, on its 
next orbit, does not go quite as 
far out as it did on the previous 
orbit While the apogee ap- 
proaches the ground slowly, the 
perigee stays at about the same 
altitude. 

After some time, say three 
years, the orbit will look like the 
smaller ellipse with apogee at 
alpha-S (S for “smalT’), The 
new orbit is not only smaller; it 
also has become more circular 
in shape. In the end, the orbit 
does become a circle, with all of 
its length in the upper atmosphere 
and with bum-up a question of 
just one or two more revolutions. 

This shrinkage is what is call- 
ed ‘orbital decay,’ but let us go 
on with theoretical reasoning for 
a little wEle longer. Let’s Have 
another look at Fig. 1, assuming 
that it now shows something dif- 
ferent It now shows two satel- 
lites in two different orbits, but 
both of them have the same per- 
igee altitude. Which of these two 
satellites will have a faster or- 
bital decay, the one In the larger 
or the one in the smaller of the 
two orbits? 

The answer is not easy to give 
FOR YOUR INFOR/AATKDN 



and for real satellites, which are 
apt to be different in size, shape 
and mass, two detailed calcula- 
tions would be required. But we 
can assume that our two satel- 
lites are identical; spherical in 
shape, two feet in diameter and 
weighing 200 pounds. 

Satellite L has its apogee at a 
distance from the surface of 

21.000 miles; its velocity at apo- 
gee is an even one mile per sec- 
ond, and its orbital period from 
apogee to apogee also happens 
to be an even figure, namely 19 
hours. 

Satellite S has its apogee at a 
distance from the surface of 

12.000 miles; its velocity at apo- 
gee is 1.4 miles per second, aud its 
orbital period is hours. The 
main factor that reduces the life- 
time in orbit of satellite S is its 
shorter orbital period. In 130 
horirs it goes 20 times through its 
perigee, while satellite L, during 
the same interval, only goes 13 
times through its perigee. 

T)ut there is one factor that 
" works in favor of satellite S. 
Satellite L, coming in from a 
more elongated orbit, goes 
through its perigee at a higher 
velocity than satellite S. Now 
it is a rule of thumb that air 
resistance increases roughly as 
the square of the velocity. If the 
velocity of satellite L were twice 
as Ei^ at perigee as that of sa- 

97 




tellite S it would encoxinter four 
times as much air resistance and 
might well have a shorter life- 
time in orbit than satellite S. 

In our example that is not the 
case. The velocity of satellite S 
at perigee is 6.25 miles per sec- 
ond, that of satellite L is 6.5 
miles per second. Satellite L does 
encounter more air resistance, 
Jbiut not so much in proportion 
as to overcome the fact that S 
goes through perigee nearly twice 
as often as L. Satellite L wins 
out. But if L Had the same vol- 
ume as S but only one tenth of 
its mass, S would win out. 

Since residual air resistance is 
the villain in the struggle for sur- 
vival put up by the two satel- 
lites, the goal of an indefinite 
lifetime (if that were in the 
goal, which it usually is not) 
could be accomplished very eas- 
ily by lifting the perigee out of 
the atmosphere. 

It so happens that the second 
Amaican satellite put into or- 
bit in 1958 went into such an or- 
bit. It is Vang^uard-I, launched 
March 17, 1958, with perigee at 
409 miles, apogee at 2453 miles 
and an orbital i>eriod of 134.3 
minutes. Now we can look at two 
actual orbits, those of Explorer- 
I and of Vanguard-I and see how 
things work out in reality. The 
raw material for the comparison 
to follow is a publication of 
NASA’s Goddard Space Flight 



Center in Greenbelt, Maryland, 
the Satellite Situation Report, 
which is issued every two weeks. 
But since these reports are met- 
ric, we first have to convert the 
figures in miles, which have been 
used so far, into kilometers. Van- 
guard’s initial orbit had it peri- 
gee at 409 miles which are 658 
kilometers. The apogee of 2453 
miles is 3947.7 kilometers. This 
was on March 17, 1958. Seven 
years and one month later the 
perigee was determined to be 
652 kilometers and the apogee 
3936 kilometers, a very faint de- 
cay. But as Table I shows, the 
orbit of Vanguard-1 can be con- 
sidered to be stable. 

As can be seen there are minor 
fluctuations — the figures are 
sometimes smaller by about 3 
kilometers (about equal to 2 
miles). Even a satellite undis- 
turbed by residual air resistance 
still has a number of factors in- 
fluencing it. There is, to begin 
with, the factor many people 
think of first, the gravitational 
field of our moon. However, even 
before any satellite was put into 
orbit, the amoimt of limar in- 
fluence was carefully calculated. 
It is so small that, while there, 
it would escape detection by 
measurement Another factor is 
the radiation pressure exerted by 
the sun. How influential this fac- 
tor is depends on the overall 
density of the satellite. In the 



98 



GALAXY 




TABLE 1. 


THE ORBIT OF VANGUARD-I. 




Date of Report 


Orbital Period 


Perigee 


Apogee 




(minutes) 


(km) 


(km) 


April 15, 1965 


134.0 


652 


3936 


July 15, 


134.0 


652 


3937 


Sept. 15y 


134.0 


649 


3940 


Dec. 15, 


134.0 


650 


3939 


March 15, 1966 


134.0 


650 


3938 


May 31, 


134.0 


652 


3936 


Aug. 31, 


134.0 


646 


3941 


Nov. 15, 


134.0 


650 


3937 


March 15, 1967 


134.0 


659 


3934 


June 15y 


133.9 


650 


3934 


Oct. 15, 


134.0 


649 


3938 


Jan. 31, 1968 


133.9 


654 


3931 


March 31, 


133.9 


651 


3934 



case of Echo, wbicH was 
just a big plastic balloon, 
it was considerable. In the 
case of fairly dense and small 
satellites, it is minor; but it could 
be detected in the case of Van- 
guard-I. The main disturbing in- 
fluence for satellites near the 
earth — and the apogee of Van- 
guard-I is only about one third 
of the earth’s diameter from the 
earth’s surface — is the earth’s 
equatorial bulge. As a matter of 
fact, the perturbations of the or- 
bit of Vanguard-I were used to 
calculate the mass of the equa- 
torial bulge. 

And then there are errors of 
measurement, but these errors » 
usually ‘smooth ouf if a large 
number of revolutions are meas- 
ured. 

I^ig. 2, which is carefully drawn 
ta scale, shows the orbit of 



Vanguard-I which since 1957 has 
changed so little that the differ- 
ence disappears in the thick- 
ness of the line in the diagram. 
But Explorer-I, as can be seen 
from the diagram, has very no- 
ticeably decayed. 



Fig. 2. The original orbit of Explorar-I and 
itj current orbft (broken circle); the 
orbit of Vanguard-I Is ihown for 
comparison. This diagram Is to scale. 




FOR YOUR INFORMATION 



99 





On February 1, 1958, its peri- 
gee was at a distance of 224 
miles (360.5 km), its apogee at 
1573 miles (2531 km) and its or- 
bital period was 114.8 minutes. 
Seven yeai^ and ten weeks later 
the orbital j>eriod was only 104.2 
minutes, the perigee had slipped 
to 213 miles (343 km) and the 
apogee had approached to a dis- 
tance of 976 miles (1571 km). 
What has happ>ened since is 
shown in Table II. 

Table II shows the orbit month 
to month over a period of nearly 
three years. During this time the 
orbital period shrank from 104.2 
minutes to 100.2 minutes, pre- 
cisely 4 minutes. The perigee al- 
titude slipped from 213 miles to 
205 miles, or 8 miles. The apogee 
altitude has suffered, as pre- 
dicted by theory, a much larger 
loss, from 976 miles to 751 miles, 
or 225 miles less. 

The obvious next question is 
how long Explorer-I is stiU go- 
ing to stay in orbit. Nobody can 
tell precisely, and the question is 
likely to be met by a profoimd 
silence, because the original esti- 
mate of the lifetime of Explorer- 
1, made a week or so after firing, 
was tiiree years. It Has been or- 
biting for ten years by now and 
the estimate of its remaining life- 
time is again three years, but this 
time surrounded by careful ex- 
planations about the factors we 
don’t know. As a matter of fact; 



we are waiting for Explorer- 1 to 
teach us some of these factors. 

Because of very many unman- 
ned satellites of relatively short 
lifetime and of manned flights, 
we know the density at an alti- 
tude of 100 miles. But Explorer- 
I is now at about 200 miles and 
the data for that altitude are go- 
ing to be largely derived from its 
behavior. Then there is another 
unknown factor which does not 
matter much right now but will 
become important later on- Ex- 
plorer-I is attached to the top 
stage of the rocket that put it 
into orbit. For this reason it Has 
the shape of a very long artillery 
projectile, about 6 inches in di- 
ameter and around 6 feet in 
length. Naturally it does not 
have any stabilizing devices (if 
it had had any originally, they 
would be useless by now) and for 
that reason is likely to tumble. 
Its lifetime will be strongly in- 
fluenced at a later time by whe- 
ther it goes through its perigee 
nose first like a bullet or whether 
it happens to move broadside on. 

So let us say: another three 
years. 

/^f the things still in orbit from 
the early years of the space 
age, Explorer-I is the only object 
left that has a foreseeable re-en- 
try at all. In 1957 there were 
only two launches (Sputnik I 
and II), and both these satel- 



100 



GALAXY 






TABLE II. 


THE ORBIT OF EXPLORER-1. 








Orbital 


Perigee 


Apogee 


Inclination of 












Orbit to Equator 






(minutes) 


(km) 


(km) 


(degrees) 




15, 1965 


104.2 


343 


1571 


33.20 




15, 


104.2 


340 


1571 


33.19 




15, 


104.2 


340 


1567 


33.19 


July 


15, 


104.1 


343 


1558 


33.18 


Aug. 


15, 


104.1 


329 


1559 


34i9 


Sept. 


15, 


104.0 


341 


1553 


33.18 


Oct. 


15, 


104.0 


337 


1554 


33.17 


Nov. 


15, 


104.0 


338 


1555 


33.18 


Dec. 


15, 


103.9 


340 


1535 


33.17 


Jan. 


15, 1966 


103.9 


341 


1540 


33.18 


Feb. 


15, 


103.8 


341 


1534 


33.19 


A\arch 


15, 


103.7 


339 


1528 


33.18 


April 


15, 


103.7 


338 


1521 


33.18 


May 


15, 


103.6 


338 


1515 


33.18 


June 


15, 


103.6 


338 


1512 


33.18 


Juty 


15, 


103J 


339 


1507 


33.18 


Aug. 


15, 


103.5 


340 


1501 


33.18 


Sept. 


15, 


103.3 


341 


1487 


33.19 


Oct. 


15, 


103.2 


340 


1477 


33.18 


Nov. 


15, 


103.1 


338 


1467 


33.18 


Dec. 


15, 


103.0 


338 


1459 


33.17 


Jan. 


15, 1967 


102.9 


338 


1449 


33.18 


Feb, 


15, 


102.8 


333 


1448 


33.18 


March 


15, 


102.7 


339 


1427 


33.21 


April 


15, 


102v4 


334 


1402 


33.14 


May 


15, 


102.2 


336 


1379 


33.17 


June 


15, 


102.0 


342 


1355 


33.16 


July 


15, 


101.9 


336 


1354 


33.09 


Aug. 


15, 


101.8 


336 


1346 


33.20 


Sept. 


15, 


isiy 


334 


1336 


33.19 


Oct. 


15, 


101J 


335 


1314 


33,19 


Nov. 


15, 


101.1 


335 


1292 


33.10 


Dec. 


15, 


100.8 


334 


1263 


33.10 


Jan. 


15, 1968 


100.6 


335 


1243 


33.10 


Feb. 


15, 


100>4 


329 


1226 


33.10 


March 


15, 


100.2 


330 


1209 


33.10 



lites and the top stages of their ed by the Vanguard-I satellite 
rockets have re-entered. Of the have, of course, orbits quite sim- 
1958 launches, four objects are ilar to the orbit of the satellite, so 
in orbit: Explorer-I, Vanguard- they are going to stay in space, 
I, the third stage of the Van- too. 

guard rocket and a metal ob- Of the 1959 launches, five ob- 
ject from the same shot. The two jects are still in orUt. They are 
pieces of “space junk” produc- Venguard-II, the top stage of 



FOR YOUR INFORMATION 



101 





the rocket that put Vanguard- 
II into orbit, Vanguard-III, Ex- 
plorer- VI I and a metal object 
associated with the shot of Ex- 
plorer-VII. The three objects of 
the Vanguard shots all have or- 
bits resembling that of Vanguard- 
1, while the two objects from the 
Explorer-VII shot have an apo- 
gee of about 650 miles and a per- 
igee at about 343 miles, a peri- 



gee high enough to make re-en- 
try within the foreseeable futur( 
unlikely. 

In time they may all be re- 
moved from orbit by manned 
spacecraft, but again in the fore- 
seeable future, there is no need 
to do so, though it may be dono 
as part of an exercise in spacecraft 
control and maneuvering. 

— WILLY LEY 






Tills Month in IF— 



New in this month's IF! 

A special eondensed novel supplement 

THE PROXY INTELLIGENCE 

TAo long-awailed sequel to Asylum 
by A. E. Van Vogt 

HIGH WEIR 

by Samuel R. Delany 

OR BATTLE'S SOUND 

by Harry Harrison 

A REPORT ON JAPANESE SF 

by Takumi Shibano 

— pJvs many other fine stories end Features. Oon^f miss the /otest 
Issue of IF, twice winner of science-fiction's Hugo award on sale now! 






102 



GALAXV 





I TONY LOVVRIS 

(Managing Director) 

K andle took the card and scan- LOWRIS LOW-COST 

ned the legend irritably. AUTOMATION SYSTEMS 

I BRING YOU HANDS Kandle breathed deeply and 

“I can’t spare you long,” said sank into his chair. “Very well, 
Kandle. “I’m a busy man.” Then Lowris,” he said, “explain to me 
the message filtered through to about the hands.” 
conscious recognition. He read the From previous research Lowris 
card again, this time more slowly, felt he already had the measure 
I BRING YOU HANDS of the man. Kandle was one of 
Scowling, he turned the card God’s chosen few, who know 
over and finally located the in- themselves to be infallible. As a 
formation he had been seeking: non-technical Works Manager, 



103 




Kandle needed no reference to the 
opinions of technicians or accoun- 
tants on matters about which he 
knew almost nothing. By the div- 
ine right of being the heaviest 
bully on the pl^nt, plus having 
absolute discretion over hiring, 
firing and salaries, Handle’s in- 
fallibility went unquestioned. His 
despotism was exceeded only by 
his megalomania. Handle’s deci- 
sions were absolute and immut- 
able — until he reversed them, as 
he frequently did, as if to assure 
the world and himself that one 
can be infallible without also be- 
ing a bigot. 

Lowris crossed his fingers be- 
hind his back and smiled inside 
himself. The situation was pre- 
cisely as he had hoped. He had 
no wish at this stage to become 
involved with technicians and en- 
gineers. It was not that there was 
anything inferior or unsound 
about the commodity he was sell- 
ing. Quite the contrary. He was 
quietly introducing a line which 
had all the explosive capability of 
a major manufacturing break- 
through. But it was not easy to 
sell hands to engineers who had 
made a lifetime’s living out of 
proving that whatever a hand can 
do a machine can do better. 

“Allow me to demonstrate,’’ 
said Lowris. 

He opened his large black case 
and Hefted the device it contained 
onto the table. Then fie whipped 

104 



away the black shroud which 
covered the device to expose the 
apparatus to Handle’s startled 
gaze. The imit comprised a cen- 
tral column, about fourteen inches 
in height and a foot in diameter, 
of heavy, black, cast metal. The 
top of the column flared out to 
the proportions of a human shoul- 
der and attached to and neatly 
folded in front of it was, incred- 
ibly, a full-sized reproduction of 
a pair of human arms, cast in a 
soft, pink, obscenely fleshlike 
plastic. The arms led to a lifelike 
reproduction of a pair of finely- 
proportioned hands. 

T owris delightedly watched 

' Handle stiffen as the shroud 
came away. It was a touch' of 
drama which Lowris always en- 
joyed, but it was only the opener 
for his show. If Kandle could 
survive the initial shock he would 
doubtless carry into his bed that 
night quite unshakable impres- 
sions of the capability of the 
hands which Lowris brought. 

“Hands . . .’’ Lowris was saying 
“. . . hands and arms — electro- 
mechanical reproductions of the 
flesh and lever mechanisms of the 
corresp>ohding parts of the human 
body. The bones are vanadium 
steel; the joints are diamond roll- 
er enclosures, and the muscles are 
plastic-and-gel flexible solenoids 
with at least five times the 
strength of a human muscle . . .’’ 

GALAXY 




He was hurrying past this part 
of the sales lecture, knowing that 
most of it was wasted on Kandle. 
Instead he concentrated on giving 
only sufficient information to en- 
able Kandle to explain it vaguely 
to himself or others later. 

“Control . . Lowris snapped 
open the back of the column, . . 
is by tape casette. Each casette 
has an available two-hour run- 
ning time on the multi-channel 
playback head. Alternatively, 
tape loops can be used for short- 
sequence operations. The unit, of 
course, includes full facilities for 
generating its own tape pro- 
grams.” 

Kandle said; “Of course,” ss if 
he had been listening in detail, but 
his eyes never wandered from the 
fleshy pinkness of the folded arms 
of the device which squatted on 
the far side of his desk. 

“Now,” said Lowris, “I suppose 
you’d like to see what it can do?” 

Kandle said: “Yes!” and Low- 
ris located the power socket on 
the wall and made a swift con- 
nection. 

“You will appreciate that these 
are only demonstration programs. 
The actions the hands will per- 
form are designed purely to dem- 
onstrate their strength and dex- 
terity.” 

Lowris depressed a switch and 
the arms unfolded with a grace- 
ful movement and came to rest 
parallel with each other with 

I BRING YOU HANDS 



palms open and turned upwards 
as if waiting to receive a gift. He 
took a pack of cards from his 
pocket and placed them in the 
left palm carefully. After a few 
moments the hand grasped them, 
then the right hand moved over 
and began to deal the cards to 
four imaginary players, with a 
swift precision. 

andle’s eyes never left the del- 
icate fingers which moved 
across his desk. He watched them 
with a fixed concentration which 
was little short of hypnotic fasci- 
nation. When the whole pack had 
been dealt, the hands still con- 
tinued to move, dealing two im- 
aginary cards before coming to 
rest. 

“Object lesson,” said Lowris. 
“The machine is comparable to a 
blind moron. It will perform su- 
jjcrbly well the exact instruction 
which have been programed into 
it. Nothing else. This program 
was set with fifty-four cards. 
There were only fifty two in the 
pack I gave it. While there is a 
crude sensory feedback in the sys- 
tem sufficient to give it orienta- 
tion, the fact that it was two cards 
short meant nothing to it. It tided 
to deal tliem just the same. Use 
smaller cards and the hands will 
drop them. Use larger, and they 
will fumble. But give them a pre- 
cise job and the parts to fit, and 
they’ll do the job untiringly and 

105 




more faithfully than any Human 
operator." 

“What sort of jobs?” Kandle 
drew his eyes from the Hands and 
looked at Lowris as if seeing Him 
for the first ^me. 

Lowris spread' his hands. “For 
instance, loading a press-tool with' 
piece-parts from a pre-positioned 
box, operating the press, then 
clearing the pressed parts to an- 
other box. All you have to do is 
keep the incoming work suitably 
positioned for the hands to find 
by touch. A perfect industrial sit- 
uation — no overtime, no coffee 
breaks — and if you arrange an 
automatic feed system, then you 
can set them operating twenty- 
four hours a day. In fact, you can 
turn out the lights and go home.” 

“Could they operate a drilling 
machine?” Kandle was afraid of 
sounding enthusiastic. 

“Certainly!” Lowris was gain- 
ing mastery of the situation and 
was enjoying it. “You can make 
those hands type, knot, assemble, 
pack eggs, bend wires, solder, feed 
machinery, or make love caresses. 
Anything a human hand can do, 
they can do — once you accept 
that they are sightless and mind- 
less. They act in perfect obedi- 
ence to their program, without 
wages, argument, shop-stewards, 
madiine guards, dermatitis, 
union-shop conditions or time- 
off to go shopping.” 

“That would have to be prov- 

106 



en,” said Kandle, catching Himself 
in the midst of a transitory show 
of exuberance. 

"Watch!” Lowris placed a com- 
partmented tray of electronic 
components on the table and ex- 
tended his wiring to include a 
soldering iron. He inserted a new 
program casette into the column 
and touched the hands into ac- 
tion. They went to work assem- 
bling a fine and delicate piece of 
apparatus with all the skill and 
precision of hands with' many 
years of experience at the art. In 
twelve minutes of rapid and ex- 
tremely fine manipulation, the 
apparatus, a miniature transistor- 
ised radio receiver, was complete. 
The hands then offered it hesi- 
tantly to Kandle. 

Qomewhat surprised, he took it 
and switched it on. It worked 
■without hesitation. 

“And now watch,” said Lowris. 
He took a bar of steel from his 
case and invited Kandle to bend 
it. The metal flexed slightly but 
suffered no permanent deforma- 
tion. The hands took the b ir 
lightly, played with it for a mo- 
ment, then deftly tied a double 
knot in it with no more effort 
than if it had been a piece of rope 
This too they offered to Kandle. 

Kandle took the metal knot and 
sat, a slightly baffled expression 
on his face, trying to reconcile the 
conflicting concepts of delicate ae 

GALAXY 




curacy and superliuman strengtH, 
two extremes of muscular activity 
which were both well outside of 
his own limited capabilities. 

“All right,” he said at last. 
“How much?” 

“Nothing for the first one.” 
Lowris was still leading the situa- 
tion. “And four thousand pounds 
each thereafter.” 

“I don’t follow,” said Kandle. 

“An introductory offer,” said 
Lowris. “You show us a suitable 
job on which you are employing 
several full-time operators. We 
install and program a pair of 
hands to do the job and guaran- 
tee one pair of hands on an eight- 
hour shift will perform as much 
work as two human operators 
during the same period — or the 
work of six, if you set it up for 
twenty-four hour operation. We 
do a work-and-cost study with 
your accountant and calculate the 
cost saving. When we have saved 
you four thousand pounds, you 
pay that sum to us. We take the 
old machine away and give you 
a new one.” 

“Let’s get this straight,” said 
Kandle. “You lend us a machine 
at no cost, and only when it’s 
saved its own price do we pur- 
chase our own. Suppose we find 
we don’t want a one th«i?” 

Lowris shrugged. “Our risk. 
You’re under no obligation to 
purchase a subsequent machine if 
you don’t wish.” 

I BRING YOU HANDS 



Kandle was suspicious. “That’s 
a peculiar way to do business, 
Lowris. I can see the advantages 
to us, but not to you. What do 
you get out of it?” 

“Experience shows us that the 
demand for a second pair of hands 
invariably comes before the end 
of the loan period on the first. So 
it’s a measure of our confidence in 
what we have to sell. From a 
thousand-ton press to a love ca- 
ress — whatever a hand can do, 
ours can do better.” 

“Put your offer in writing,” 
said Kandle, “and I’ll let you 
know.” 

Lowris replaced the hands in 
the box and maneuvered it to the 
door. Then he shook hands and 
left. Kandle sat back at his desk 
with a piece of knotted steel, a 
transistor radio, and a piece of 
card with a message no longer 
enigmatic: 

I BRING YOU HANDS 
II 

T owns was under no illusions 
-^about the difficulties of the as- 
signment. It was for this reason 
that he preferred to make the ini- 
tial installation himself. Despite 
his being an innocent in the realm 
of manufacturing techniques, 
Kandle knew well what the bot- 
tlenecks were in his production 
line and which were the jobs on 
which it was most difficult to re- 

107 




tain labor. He had apparently ac- 
quired the useful industrial gift 
of persuading the shop stewards 
to do their duty wearing blinkers 
and heavily rose-tinted si>ectacles, 
for many of his processes present- 
ed health hazards to the operators 
which should never have persisted 
into the twentieth century. 

Curiously, such is the luck of 
the “infallible” mentality, that 
Kandle got away with these in- 
dustrial malpractices completely, 
although his labor turnover was 
staggeringly high. Lowris, who 
had researched the Company to 
a point where he could have re- 
cited verse and chapter on its op- 
eration, was not therefore unduly 
surprised at the nature of the job 
on which it was intended to try 
the hands. 

Kandle had chosen the feed end 
of a hot-tinning process, where 
pieceparts were flux-coated by 
hand and then introduced into a 
bath of molten tin, from which 
they were recovered, mercifully 
by a decrepit chain-link belt 
which dropi>ed the hot parts into 
a dangerously hot and reeking 
paraffin quench tank. Lowris rea- 
sonably estimated that the whole 
process could have been conven- 
tionally mechanized for less than 
the cost of a pair of hands. But 
his purpose was to sell hands, and 
Kandle was not a person to listen 
to gratuitous advice. 

The whole atmosphere sur- 

108 



rounding the tinning process was 
an offence to the human organ- 
ism. The flux was a vicious halo- 
genactivated liquor, notorious for 
its tendency to promote dermati- 
tis. The evaporation of liberal 
amounts of this fluid in contact 
with the molten tin further liber- 
ated quantities of vaporized 
chlorides and probably fluorides 
into the air. The cover-flux layer 
on the tin bath was dirty and in- 
efficient, and the fumes from tlie 
paraffin quench at times grew 
quite alarming. A disturbance of 
the span roof above showed where 
some enlightened predecessor of 
Kandle had once had a fume ex- 
tractor installed; but the appa- 
ratus, probably corroded beyond 
repair, had long since been re- 
moved. 

In the midst of this minor hell 
of heat and fume, four girls, some 
only in their late teens, chattered 
incessantly to each other as they 
worked. With typical infallible 
organization, Kandle had not 
thought to warn the girls of Low- 
ris’s coming. His arrival in a neat, 
dark suit and staggering with a 
large black box caused a delicious 
moment of confused amazernent. 
When they had decided amongst 
themselves that Lowris was ap- 
parently going to work on the 
tinning section with them, they 
aU retired to the toilets for a per- 
iod and then resumed work in 
expectant semi-silence punctuated 

GALAXY 




by outbursts of infectious giggling. 

L owris completed Eis first sur- 
vey of the job and took meas- 
urements of the various critical 
parameters. The girls watched 
him covertly, as though he might 
be expected to indulge in some 
sudden act of outrage. It was 
never quite certain whether this 
was what they hoped or feared. 
Lowris continued his work, color- 
ing slightly occasionally, unused 
to being the focus of sucK con- 
centrated and mocking interest. 

Finally one of the girls, un- 
kempt, and with a ferocious scowl 
and overwhelming self-confi- 
dence, slipped' over to where he 
stood. 

“Here — what you supposed to 
be doing?” The tone was a mix- 
ture of inquiry and impudence. 

Lowris played it lightly. 
“Hands,” he said. “I’m a special- 
ist in hands.” 

“WeU, you can keep ’em off me 
for a start.” She both laughed and 
scowled at the same time, reveal- 
ing a remarkable complexity of 
character. “I mean, what you do- 
ing with your hands?” 

“Wait and see,” said Lowris. 
She reported back to her work- 
mates, baffled for a moment, but 
watdiing carefully as Lowris op- 
ened the box and set his device, 
stdl shrouded, upon the benchtop. 

“Heyl He’s erecting a statue,” 
she decided suddenly. “A statue 
r BRING YOU HANDS 



of us and old Jean that fell info 
the paraffin.” Shortly she skipped 
back to Lowris’s ade and raised 
a comer of the shroud expectant- 
ly- 

“What’s under there?” 

“Three brass monkeys,” said 
Lowris wickedly. “We want to 
find out how cold it gets in here 
at nights.” 

She pulled an impudently wry 
face. “Hey — you’re a bit cheeky, 
aren’t you? Better’n the ones 
down in them offices though.” 
She nodded her head in the gen- 
eral direction of Handle’s admin- 
istration. “They don’t speak to 
you at all if they can help. Just 
give you little tickets, like, telling 
you what to do next.” 

“And do you usually do what 
you’re told?” 

She put her head on one side, 
trying to repress a burst of deep- 
seated mischief. “Sometimes I do 
. . . and sometimes I don’t. De- 
pends on who’s doing the telling.” 
She started to go away, then 
turned back with a sudden 
thought. “You can call me Nan- 
cy. Everyone calls me Nancy — 
even old Kandlegrease.” 

“That’s nice,” said Lowris, try- 
ing to make some critical meas;- 
urements. 

“What’s your name then?” 
“Lowris,” said Lowris. 

“Lowris what?” 

“Lowris nothing. It’s something 
Lowris, but nobody ever uses it 

109 




tfiat way. How come you’ve got 
so much time to chat?” 

“Oh, they don’t know what 
they’re doing down there in the 
office. So we work a bit when we 
feel like it ^d chat when we 
don’t. Nobody cares, anyway.” 
“That’s rather what I thought,” 
said Lowris, saving it in mind 
that with his own cost-accountant 
on the job, one pair of hands 
should show a four-thousand- 
pound cost saving over the pres- 
ent sjrstem in a remarkably short 
space of time. 

A t mid-day Lowris called in his 
own engineer and detailed 
the various stops, slides and reg- 
isters he needed to facilitate the 
smooth feeding of the components 
to the location from which the 
hands would take them for pro- 
cessing. He dispensed with lunch 
himself, unshrouded the hands, 
and began to set them up in pre- 
paration for the difficult and deli- 
cate task of programing them to 
p>erform the required operations. 

The whole key to the success of 
the hands lay in the programing, 
and Lowris was justifiably proud 
of his method, which enabled a 
complex sequence of commands 
to be established so precisely that 
a hand programed by a man to 
write his own signature would 
continue to produce copies of that 
signature in all respects indistin* 
guishable from the original Al- 



though the method of programing 
was basically simple, every ges- 
ture and nuance of touch impart- 
ed by the programmer to the 
hands remained as an oi>€rating 
characteristic identical with the 
movements of its originator. 

In principle, signals from an 
unbalanced oscillator were fed to 
the flexible solenoid coUs which’ 
comprised the muscles of the 
hands. By manipulating the hands 
through the program sequence 
and detecting the altering electri- 
cal responses of the flexing solen- 
oids, a series of differences from 
the original signal were obtained 
and recorded on magnetic tajje. A 
similar series of signals was also 
recorded for the sensory system, 
which imparted a degree of tact- 
tile expectancy to the hands and 
gave them a measure of orienta- 
tion which corrected for under- 
shoot and overshoot. The taped 
record was then used to produce 
the necessary signals to operate 
the hands. 

Lowris was forced to agree that 
the scheme exceeded his own ex- 
pectations, though he sometimes 
sweated to think of the years of 
frustrating experiment and modi- 
fication which had preceded his 
present level of attainment. And 
all this to provide industrial ille- 
gitimates like Handle with a 
cheap substitute for human labor 
which, in any case, he neither held 
in regard nor bothered to utilize 



110 



GALAXY 




at more than twenty percent effi- 
ciency. 

I n order to put tlie Hands 
smoothly througfi tfie sequence 
of operations, Lowris Had first to 
learn to perform the operations 
faultlessly himself. For some ob- 
scure reason, probably associated 
with pavicity of the imagination, 
the activated flux was applied to 
the components by means of a 
household paintbrush. This in- 
volved precise rotation of the 
component and some complicated 
wristwork, in addition to Holding 
the brush at the most advanta- 
geous angle. As a skilled techni- 
cian, Lowris possessed all the ne- 
cessary dexterity, but He needed 
time and repetition to transform 
the action into a smooth-flowing 
habit pattern. He was still prac- 
ticing when Nancy and her mates 
returned from the dinner-break. 

Nancy came and stood by him 
and watched him critically for a 
full five minutes. 

“Man! Are you awkward!” she 
said at last. “Out of the way. I’ll 
show you.” 

She maneuvered him off the 
chair by main force and began 
fluxing as though her life depend- 
ed on it. Her short, capable fin- 
gers achieved a degree of accur- 
acy and speed that Lowris had to 
admit to himself He would never 
be able to equal. SHe went 
through the stack of work at a 



pace that would Have gladdened 
the heart of any rate-fixer, then 
threw down the brusK in triumph. 

“There!” she said- Then she 
looked up and for the first time 
noticed the unshrouded hands. 
“What the . . .?” 

“Hands,” said Lowris. “I spe- 
cialize in them, remember?” 
“What are they made of?” 
“Plastic and steel and things.” 
“D’you know, for a minute I 
thought they were real. Somebody 
cut up. What you going to do 
with them?” 

“Make them work, I hope.” 
She grinned roguishly. “V/hy 
don’t you spread them out a bit, 
and then we can use them for 
holding yam.” She appealed to 
her mates. “Hey girls! They got 
a new idea — something to hold 
our yam while we’re knitting.” 
Opening the column, Lowris 
slipped in a tape casette contain- 
ing a demonstration manipulatory 
exercise. Immediately, the arms 
unfolded, and the hands began to 
dance a pattern of finger and 
wrist co-ordination exercises, 
while the shoulder and elbow 
joints went through the sweep, ex- 
tension and range movements. 

It was a beautiful tape. The 
original tape program had been 
set by Madelain, Lowris’s wife, 
an accomplished student of ballet 
and mime. THe flow of the move- 
ments reflected witH entire fidel- 
ity the precision, ixjise and dra- 



I BRING YOU HANDS 



m 




matic feeling which was so char- 
acteristically Madelain’s. 

Nancy was nonplussed but not 
enthralled by the performance. 
She recovered, her equilibrium 
quickly. “He^,” she said. “He 
woke the silly things up!” 

T owris e.xtracted the tape, in- 

' serted a new casette, and 
slipped rings on the plastic fore- 
fingers to couple them with his 
own as he guided them through 
the operations sequence to record 
the required program data. This 
was always the hardest part of 
the job. It was one thing to per- 
form an intricate operation with 
one’s own fingers, and quite an- 
other to perform it with a set of 
plastic fingers clipped under one’s 
own, Practiced as he was in pro- 
graming, Lowris was inevitably 
awkward in his first manipula- 
tions, and he spent an hour in 
dummy runs before he attempted 
a trial recording. 

Nancy had watched all this 
with scowling interest and occa- 
sionally interjected: “Boy . . . are 
you awkward!” in a manner not 
calculated to improve Lowris’s 
waning patience. 

When, on trial playback, the 
hands succeeded in dropping both 
the component and the brush, she 
abandoned her own work and 
came over again. 

“Here — I’ll show you how to 
do it.” 

112 



Lowris erased the trial tape 
without comment and considered 
returning later when the factory 
was closed in order to oe able to 
set the program without interrup- 
tion or comment. But he was de- 
veloping a sneaking liking for this 
irerky, sparrowlike Nancy, who 
would rush into a conversation or 
a situation where angels and Low- 
rises feared to tread. He appre- 
ciated the shattering contrast be- 
tween her unabashed confidence 
and his own introvert caution. 

Nancy worked her fingers into 
tlie coupling rings on the bands 
and wriggled them about deli- 
ciously, just to get the feel of 
things. 

“Okay, you can switch on,” she 
said. And then, with a sudden 
pause for thought; “Doesn’t hurt, 
does it?” 

“Only for a few minutes,” said 
Lowris maliciously and quite in- 
correctly. 

She searched his face to deter- 
mine the truth of the statement 
“Doesn’t hurt!” she decided. 

To retain her interest Lov/ris 
switched on the recorder. “Now!” 

She picked up the component 
and the brush, deftly completed 
the fluxing and' dropped the com- 
ponent in the molten tin batli. 
Her fingers, guiding those of the 
hands, functioned as surely as if 
the hands had iwt been there. 

“Again,” said Lowris. 

She rep>eated the operation, and 

GAIAXY 




tfien twice more, Eer control in- 
creasing steadily witH eacH at- 
tempt. 

“More,” said Lowris. 

At this poiEt Handle walked 
down the shop. He stood for 
a moment watching the operation, 
with one eyebrow quizzically rais- 
ed. Then he walked on, apparent- 
ly more interested in the sheaf of 
papers on his clipboard. 

Nancy finished the box of com- 
ponents then looked at Lowris. 
“That suit you?” 

“We’ll soon see.” He re-wound 
the tape, bade Nancy find some 
more components, then set the 
hands on program-controlled run- 
ning. The hands performed tHe 
operation faultlessly, all of Nan- 
cy’s quick movements and tenac- 
ity of grasp being reproduced in 
perfect detail. Lowris had to ad- 
mit that had he worked all night 
he could scarcely have hoped to 
set such a program himself. He 
said as much, and she grinned and 
almost flushed with pleasure. 

“Oh, any time I” 

Their eyes met again — the tri- 
umphant yet sad impudence, and 
Lowris’s vast and softer depths. 

“Any time?” Lowris’s ego 
reached out at some of her out- 
flowing confidence and secured 
itself a shred. ‘What are you 
doing tonight?” 

She caught up with his mean- 
ing, and her look of triumph al- 

114 



most dimmed out the other shad- 
ows underneath the scowl. 

"Nothing. I was just wondering 
what I was going to do tonight.” 
The job completed except for 
the slides, stops, and registers 
which his engineer was construct- 
ing, Lowris borrowed Handle’s 
phone and called his office. 

“Tell Jimmy I’d like the slides 
at Handle’s place by noon tomor- 
row if possible.” 

“So soon?” His secretary was 
surprised. “I don’t think Jimmy’s 
even started them yet. We thought 
this was a three-day job.” 

“It was, but I had some luck 
with the programing. It’s all set 
here now, apart from editing the 
program and installing Jimmy’s 
bits and pieces. Will you contact 
Halting and let him know I’ll be 
coming there a day early? Oh’, 
and Jean . . . Get my wife on the 
phone, will you, and tell her I’ll 
be late tonight” 

“Again? Really, Lowris, you are 
a swine! Madelain’ll catch up 
with you one day. You can’t get 
away with it for ever, you know.” 
“Once I would have cared,” ssiid 
Lowris, “but these days I just 
don’t give a damn.” 

Ill 

T he next morning Lowris start- 
ed trimming his program 
tape, selecting the best of Nancy’s 
recorded performances, dupUcat- 

GALAXY 




ing tHe fastest and deleting tHe 
pauses and hesitations. The re- 
sults, he decided, could best be 
handled by a closed-loop casette, 
and he phoned the office to in- 
clude the necessary micro -switch- 
es to start and stop the process 
automatically. 

The model-five Hands were per- 
forming perfectly, and Nancy’s 
own sure motions had imparted 
to them a certainty and sensitiv- 
ity whicK was fascinating to 
watcK. Then, by slight increases 
in the tape playback speed, Low- 
ris gave them a rapidity which 
even Nancy would have been un- 
able to match. This, added to the 
fact that the hands needed no 
coffee-breaks, lunch-breaks, trips 
to the toilet, or time off for a chat, 
made it easily possible to estab- 
lish a work-rate verging on three 
times that of a human operator. 
Lowris felt He needed the extra 
speed, because he was perfectly 
sure that Kandle would under- 
state the amount of work pro- 
duced when it came to the calcu- 
lations affecting the purchase of 
their own hands. 

At twelve o’clock Jimmy arriv- 
ed with a mass of prefabricated 
slide parts. These they assembled 
rapidly to form a sloping ramp 
which would gravity-feed Kan- 
dle’s standard work bins against 
the stops in a suitable position 
for the hands to find the com- 
ponents. The arrangement per- 

I BRING YOU HANDS 



mitted the pre-loading of enough 
components to last the hands for 
about four Hours. A similar ar- 
rangement would easily have 
halved the time wasted by Kan- 
dle’s girls in moving work-bins 
about, but that was not Lowris's 
problem. 

Using an electronic load-cell to 
detect when the bin had been 
emptied, Lowris added an instruc- 
tion to the program for the hands 
to push away the empty bin to 
allow the next one to move down 
into place. A simple trigger switch 
stopped the hands when the sup- 
ply of boxes on the slide came to 
an end. 

Nancy watched all this with 
critical interest and then slipped 
aroimd. 

“Look, do you work for him?’’ 
She pointed to Jimmy. 

“No,” said Lowris. “He works 
for me.” 

“Do 3mu have many people — 
I mean, working for you, like? ’ 

“About thirty-five.” 

“And you’re the boss?” She 
seemed slightly incredulous. 

“I’m the owner,” said Lowris. 
“It comes to the same thing.” 

“We going out again tonight?” 

“I’m afraid not. Tonight I’m 
off to another job.” 

“Then I don’t suppose I’ll see 
you again?” 

“Doubtful,” said Lowris. “Not 
unless Kandle buys another pair 
of hands.” 



115 




"OHr She went away pensive- 
ly and attacked her work witii a 
savage scowl. 

J immy moved lip to his shoul- 
der. “It’s none of my business, 
Lowris, but that one looks like a 
whole load of trouble to me.” 
“Boy!” Lowris slapped him on 
the arm. “I was born in trouble, 
married it, and it’s never left me 
since. Now I’m so damned used 
to it that I miss it if it doesn’t 
hapfien.” 

“Please yourself,” said Jimmy, 
“but Madelain’U crucify you if 
she finds out about this one. Re- 
member what happiened last 
time.” 

“TKere was nothing in this, 
anyway,” said Lowris. 

“Perhaps not, but I don’t like 
the look in the eyes of that young 
miss. Something tells me you’ve 
not heard the last of her.” 

“I’ll bear it in mind,” said Low- 
ris, unconvinced. 

Before he left, Lowris called 
Kandle out to see a demonstra- 
tion. The hands, functioning with 
perfect co-ordination, worked 
their way through a box of com- 
ponents in about a third of the 
time taken by one of the girls. 
Kandle remained impoietrably 
silent during these proceedings, 
but it was obvious that he was 
thinking. When the hands smartly 
pushed the empty bin out of the 
way and started on the next, his 

116 



eyes widened appreciably. Kan- 
dle was certainly maldng the 
mental calculation as to how 
much work could be completed 
during the ni^t if the ramp was 
left fully loaded at the end of the 
working day. 

Lowris mentally hugged a pic- 
ture of Kandle creeping in at mid- 
night to load boxes on the ramp 
to actdeve twenty-four hour op- 
eration, for such is the pattern of 
infallible management that it 
seeks to counteract inefficiency of 
method by operating for the long- 
est practical periods of time — 
the antithesis of productivity. 
Kandle was also noting the per- 
formance of the hands as com- 
pared with the performance of his 
operators. From the deep gleam 
in his eyes it was piossible to pre- 
dict that a few wage envelopes 
would shortly include dismissal 
notices. Lowris shrugged inward- 
ly. It was not his problem. 

L owris’s trip to see Halting rep- 
resented a new phase in the 
development of the hands. Lowris 
had realized that in one important 
sphere of human activity an extra 
pair of hands was never unwel- 
come — in the domestic kitchen. 
Halting was a minor genius when 
it came to constructing specialized 
catering equipment, and the union 
of Lowris’s hands with' Harting’s 
pre-purposed kitchen line prom- 
ised to yield an automatic domes- 

GALAXY 




tic chef of considerable potential. 

Refusing to sacrifice versatility 
for cheapness, Harting and Low- 
ris had achieved a near impossi- 
bility in cost reduction by using 
the simplest possible range of 
kitchen equipment in a set con- 
figuration, relying on the inherent 
dexterity of the hands to achieve 
their aim. Unfortunately, this 
threw the onus back completely 
on the skill of the programmer, 
and the success of the venture 
now rested with the human hands 
which taught the automatic ones 
their job. 

From the start, everything 
went wrong. The chef-instructor, 
whom Harting had engaged for 
the more skilful parts of the pro- 
graming, proved to be a complete 
idiot when it came to manipulat- 
ing the hands. Lowris’s manipu- 
lation w’as good, but his cookery 
proved inedible. Harting, seeing 
the way things were going, got 
liimself drunk on cooking sherry 
and remained in that state for 
three consecutive days. 

Lowris travelled back on the 
following Wednesday morning 
with indigestion, a hangover, and 
an expensive booking arrange- 
ment for a stand at the forth- 
coming Good-Eating Exhibition 
where he was due to show some- 
thing which it did not look as if 
he wpuld now be able to produce. 
He arrived in town at mid-day 
feeling in the depths of a depres- 

I BRING YOU HANDS 



sion. He ducked lunch and went 
home for a change of clothes and 
a wash before going to his office. 

TV yT adelain was waiting for him 
coldly. She had obviously 
been crying, but was now in a 
state of icy restraint. 

“What the hell’s going on, Low- 
ris? There was a girl up here yes- 
terday who kicked up a frightful 
row demanding to see you. She 
said that it was all your fault she 
had lost her job, and what were 
you going to do about it.” 

“The damn little fool!” 

“So you do know her then?” 

“I can guess who it was. Sounds 
like one of the girls who works at 
Kandle’s place. I installed some 
hands there recently, and it looks 
as if Kandle’s given his tinning 
staff the bum’s rush.” 

“Is that all?” 

“All what?” 

“All you’re going to say about 
her?” 

“That’s all I know about her.” 
“It still doesn’t explain how she 
comes to call at your private ad- 
dress, asking for you simply as 
Lowris.” Underneath Madelain’s 
white composure was coiled a taut 
whip of anger. 

“Do me a favor!” said Lowris. 
“I can’t be held respwnsible for 
Kandle’s mistakes.” 

“I wish I was sure it was Kan- 
dle’s mistake. It sounds more like 
one of yours.” 



117 




“Shut upl” said Lowris. “I’ve 
had enough' of you for one day. I 
scarc^y know the girl, and the 
fact that Kandle chooses to sack 
labor instedid of re-deploy is no 
concern of mine. An3rthing else 
you’ve made out of this is entirely 
in your own imagination.” 

“Do 5TOU take me for a fool, 
Lowris? Do you think I don’t 
know you were out with that girl 
the night Jean phoned to say you 
were with a client? You’re not 
only transparent, Lowris, you’ve 
got damn bad taste — and if 
you’ve got involved with a stupid 
little tart like that you’re a bigger 
fool than I thought you were. Are 
you having an affair with her?” 
“No,” said Lowris, “but the 
idea’s beginning to have its at- 
tractions if this is the sort of 
treatment I get when I’m not hav- 
ing one. What makes you such a 
perfect shrew, Madelain? Does it 
come naturally, or did you have 
to study for it?” 

“Neither.” Madelain struggled 
to contain a complete emotional 
explosion. “It’s just the inevitable 
result of being married to a rotten 
pig like you.” 

T owris retired from the conflict 
^ before the final blowup, and 
feeling dirty, dishevelled, and 
emotionally drained, he went to 
his office in an even blacker mood 
than before. Jean, his secretary, 
stopped him in the outer room. 

118 



“Oh, Lowris, there’s a chick in 
your office.” 

“A what?” 

“A bird — name of Nancy. 
She’s been in and out all morning 
waiting for you and generally 
raising Cain. Finally I phoned 
Jimmy, and he said to put her in 
your office and give her a staff- 
employment application form.” 
“He said what?” 

“He said he had an idea yon 
wanted her for something, but he 
wouldn’t say what.” 

“Bang goes Jimmy’s Christmas 
bonus — for insubordination.” 
“Oh-oh! Like that is it?” Jean 
looked at him sharply. “Frankly, 
Lowris, she doesn’t look your 
type.” 

“The way I feel right now, no- 
body’s my type. I’m sick to death 
of the whole damn human race.” 
“Trouble with Harting too?” 
“The trip was a calamity and n 
disaster. Going home afterwards 
was a grave mistake, and comini; 
here and finding Nancy in my of- 
fice is just the sort of touch I need 
to convince me I’m in an ad- 
vanced state of persecution para- 
noia.” 

“What are you going to do 
about her?” 

“About Nancy? Nothing. Gel 
rid of her for me, Jean. I’ve got 
troubles enough for the moment. 

Jean shook her head. “Sorry, 
Lowris! That’s one bed you’ve 
made which you are going to have 

GALAXY 




to lie your own way out of — if 
you’ll excuse the metaphor. She 
looks a pretty determined little 
madam to me.” 

“All right! I’ll get rid of her 
myself if that’s all the co-opera- 
tion I’m going to get. What the 
hell’s the matter with the world 
today?” 

He strode to his office and op- 
ened the door. Nancy was com- 
fortably seated in his chair at the 
desk, reading magazines. She 
looked up, a trifle nonplussed. 

“HeUo!” 

“I’ve got a bone to pick with 
you,” said Lowris sternly. 

She laughed and scowled simul- 
taneously, in her own inimitable 
fashion. 

“Yeah . . . and I’ve got two to 
pick with you. What are you go- 
ing to do about my job?” 

L owris ignored the question. 

“Did you go round to my 
house last night?” 

“Yeah. Well, I had to see you, 
didn’t I? Old Kandle gave me the 
push because of your hands, and 
I went to your house because I 
knew you’d give me a job on ac- 
count of our being friends and 
me being able to help you.” 

“But what did you say to my 
wife?” 

Nancy grinned reflectively. 
“The old girl came to the door, 
and I told her what I wanted as 
sweet as pie. But she started get- 

I BRING YOU HANDS 



ting cross and stuck-up and said 
she was your wife and if I wanted 
a job I’d better ask at the factory 
or office. Then she asked me why 
I came to the house, and I 
wouldn’t tell her because it was 
none of her business. So she gets 
mad at this and says she thinks 
I’m having an affair with you. 
Then she calls me a stupid little 
tart, so I called her a frustrated 
old bag and said I didn’t blame 
you for playing around if that 
was what you had to come home 
to.” 

“I see!” Lowris found the vis- 
itor’s chair on the other sde of 
the desk, sat down weakly, and 
put his head in his hands. Then 
the mental picture of Madelain’s 
reaction at being called a “frus- 
trated old bag” was something he 
was unable to contain, and he sat 
up laughing. 

Nancy watched him warily 
from behind the desk. “I’m glad 
you think it’s funny.” 

“I have to,” said Lowris. “It’s 
the only thing that stops me go- 
ing mad on days like this.” 

“Well, that’s all right, then. 
Hey, what about this job I come 
for?” 

“What job?” 

“The one they gave me this 
thingummy about.” She waved 
the application form at him. Low- 
ris took it, simply because it was 
offered, and scanned the offen- 
sive spider crawl, blots, misspell- 

119 




ings and frequent alterations 
whicK constituted Ker entries. 

"Suppose I can’t find you a 
job?" ; 

“You’ll Have to I" This was 
mock scolding. “After all, it was 
your hands that took my job, and 
I did show you how to make them 
do it. So I thought maybe you 
cotild use somebody to make your 
hands work right . . . seeing how 
awkward you are.” 

‘‘Thanks for the thought,” said 
Lowris weakly. Sitting on the 
wrong side of his own desk, he re- 
flected that the interview was not 
going at all the way Ke Had in- 
tended. 

‘‘I don’t think . . .” He said du- 
biously. 

And then a new idea fetch- 
ed him to the point of decision. 
‘‘Can you cOok?” 

“Maybe.” Nancy screwed Her 
face up in an amazing spectrum 
of expresaons centered on a slight 
trace of disgust which was regis- 
tered by her nose. “Why, you 
hungry?” 

“No,” said Lowris. “You’ve just 
given me an idea. There may be 
a job for you if you’re willing to 
take a little trip.” 

“A trip? With you?” 

“I’ll be along too.” 

“And do I get paid as well?” 

“A hundred dollars a week for 
a four-week trial period. After 
that we’ll see vdiat you’re worth 
— if anything.” 

120 



t C A nd what do I Have to doi 
for the money?” 
“Program Hands.” 

“And?” She looked at him with 
a light of challenge in her eyes. 

“That’s all that’s included in 
the job. What do you do in your 
spare time is your own affair.” 
she was baffled. “A hundred a 
week for next to nothing. Boy . . . 
you must be joking 1” 

“Take it or leave it,” said Low- 
ris. 

“Look, mister, if you’re crazy 
enough to give me that much a 
week for easy work, of course ni 
take it.” 

“Good! Get packed tonight and 
be at the railway station at nine 
o’clock tomorrow morning.” 

He pressed the button and 
waited for his secretary to appear. 
“Jean, progress this application 
form, win you? I’ll fill in the de- 
tails later. And phone Halting 
and teU him to have his chef- 
instructor chappie ready. I’ll be 
with them tomorrow with some 
new ideas. OH yes, and you’d bet- 
ter fix train reservations and Hotel 
accommodations for two. I’m 
taking Nancy with me.” 

Jean took the application form 
and scanned it without expres- 
sion. 

“One double room or two sin- 
gles?” she asked finally, looking 
nowhere in particular. 

“Use your initiative,” said Low- 
ris. “Don’t bother me,” 



GALAXY 




The telephone buzzed softly. 
Jean went to her own office to 
take the call. A few moments later 
she was back. 

“Madelain. Wants to know 
when you’re Ukely to be Kome.” 
Lowris glanced at the stacked 
papers in his tray and pursed his 
lips. “Ifll take all night to clear 
this lot if I’m going away again 
tomorrow. Tell her I’ve gone to 
take Harting a bird. That’s so 
near the truth she’ll never damn- 
well believe it.” 

Nancy said: “Hey!” indignant- 
ly, at the same time exhibiting a 
flush of triumph. With a raised 
eyebrow, Jean went to deliver the 
message and then to book a hotel 
as her initiative and intuition both 
dictated. Lowris, feeling brighter 
than he had felt all day, ejected 
Nancy from his office and set 
about catching up on his paper- 
work. Amongst the top papters 
was a tentative inquiry from Kan- 
dle wanting to know on what 
terms Lowris would be prepared 
to supply a second pair of hands. 

IV 

T owris’s decision to employ 
' Nancy was based on a piece 
of psychological insight with 
deeper roots than its p>otential for 
adultery. As an introvert, Lowris 
lived with the constant spectre of 
failure hovering about his head. 
It inhibited his manipulation of 

I BRING YOU HANDS 



the hands as much as it reduced 
the size of his handwriting and 
robbed him of the power to speak 
effectively in public. Nancy’s 
manipulation — in fact Ker whole 
outlook — was uncluttered by 
any such impediment. She had no 
fear of failure. To her it was un- 
important. 

The fact that her culinary 
prowess was initially limited to 
producing atrocious cups of coffee 
worried her not a bit. She follow- 
ed the chef -instructor through the 
operation of making souffles nine- 
teen times, almost collapsing with 
amusement as her pan produced 
an amazing sequence of unappe- 
tizing rejects. The twentietli time 
she reached a pierfection worthy 
of Madame Poulard Herself. Low- 
ris acquired the tape record im- 
mediately, and the results pro- 
duced by the hands on replay 
were identically good. 

Then things began to go more 
smoothly, and the menu of the 
Lowris-Harting Robotic Kitchen 
not only grew to an attractive 
length but achieved a standard 
such as the domestic housewife 
could seldom be bothered to 
match. Lowris’s confidence im- 
proved to such an extent that he 
doubled his publicity campaign 
and gave Nancy an increase in 
salary. 

Not even the reproachful let- 
ters from Madelain worried him 
overmuch. He Kad anticipated her 

121 




mood, and wHen Ke botKered to 
read her letters at all he accepted 
her bitterness philosophically and 
with an attitude of tolerant mar- 
tyrdom. Sh^ had always been a 
good wife to him — according to 
her own possessive view of the 
situation. Lowris knew that it was 
his own almost pathological aver- 
sion to being possessed which had 
brought about the schism, and it 
was the exercise of this failing for 
which he was now being blamed. 
He had no intention of forming 
a permanent liaison with anyone 
— certainly not with’ Nancy. In 
the meantime, the present ar- 
rangement with her suited him 
rather well. 

Most of the tapes required for 
the Robotic Kitchen were com- 
plete within the first month; and 
during the second month Nancy 
built up an impressive library of 
extra tapes which extended the 
scope of the robotic unit to well 
beyond what had originally been 
intended. With such a formidable 
armory to unleash at the Good 
Eating Exhibition, Lowris’s suc- 
cess was assured. For once for- 
tune was swinging him reckless- 
ly high — so high the ground 
seemed a long way off. 

Then just as the pendulum 
began to swing again, some over- 
wrought spring snapped, and the 
whole unstable weight which was 
his life went crashing into the 
depths. 

122 



'■^he police message reached him 
at mid-day, and he cauglit 
the first train out, shattered by n 
frantic sense of loss, remorse, and 
guilt. Madelain had taken tlir 
Jaguar and driven onto the thni- 
way. At an overpass just ten milni 
from the entrance she had hit a 
concrete column at a speed esti- 
mated at better than a hundred 
miles and hour. Everyone wa« 
kind. Nobody suggested she had 
left the road deliberately. She had 
been sp>eeding — a wet road — a 
blackout, perhaps. 

He shook off the well-inten- 
tioned circle of friends and sym- 
pathizers, feeling the black swamp 
of sick responsibility closing 
round his head. At times like thii 
he knew he was better alone, lefi 
to try and face himself in some 
dimly-lighted bar where he w.ii 
anonymous and where nobody 
even tried to probe the conflict i 
which tore him. 

The point which emerged t» 
worry him was Madelain’s mo 
tive. He had no doubt in his own 
mind that she had deliberately 
crashed the car in an act of dcs 
peration. The uncharacteristii 
part of the affair was that it now 
left him free to spend his life m» 
he wished. Knowing Madelain'* 
talent for possessiveness, he coulil 
not convince himself that she liml 
destroyed herself in order to leavi 
him free. He could not get rid nl 
the feeling that in some way sin 

GALAXV 




had contrived to make it impos- 
sible for him to continue his liai- 
son with Nancy. 

How this could have been ar- 
ranged was something he grew 
progressively less able to under- 
stand as the evening went its al- 
coholic way. When he finally con- 
sidered himself insulated against 
all feelings of grief or remorse, he 
performed the one act that every- 
one had advised him against — 
he went home. 

It was raining. The taxi deliv- 
ered him to the door and then 
speedily departed. He stood for a 
moment against the damp hedge, 
welcoming the cold sense of real- 
ity which he felt in the raindrops 
on his face. He got his key upside- 
down in the lock. 

Wrestling with the recalcitrant 
lock, he finally gained admission 
to the hall and struck out for the 
light switch. Nothing happened, 
although he distinctly heard it 
click. He reflected curiously that 
Madclain must have turned off 
the electricity at the main switch' 
before taking the car. The main 
switch was in the garage, and he 
was in no state to negotiate the 
garage doors, nor, since all he 
needed now was rest, was there 
any necessity to try. Sufficient 
light from the street-lamp oppo- 
site entered via the hall windows 
to permit Him to find the Bed- 
room. The bedroom fight did not 
work either, but he knew from 

124 



habit how to find the bed in the 
darkness. Pausing only to slip off 
his shoes without the trial of un- 
doing the laces, he threw himself 
on the softness of the bed. 

'"T^hen shock! Fingers closed 
around his throat, the pale, 
indistinct arms reaching for him 
from the headboard. Sober, he 
might have torn himself away, but 
in his condition of lowered re- 
sponses he missed his cliance, and 
the model-five hands encompass- 
ed his neck longingly. With sud- 
den panicky insight into his pre- 
dicament he tried to throw the 
base of the hands off balance, but 
whoever had secured it had done 
the job too well. , 

. . . The hones are vanadium 
steel . . . the muscles . . . plastic- 
and-^1 flexible solenoids . . . with 
at least five times the stren^h of 
the average human muscle. They 
act in perfect obedience to their 
program . . . every gesture and 
nuartce of touch . . . identical with 
the movements of its origina- 
tor . . . 

Technically it was a flawless 
tape. The flow of the movements 
reflected with entire fidelity the 
hours of rehearsal and the preci- 
sion, poise and dramatic feeling 
which was so characteristically 
Madelain’s. After an hour of sub- 
tle and expressive pressures the 
hands even suffered him to die. 

— COLIN KAPP 

GALAXY 




A VISIT TO 
CLEVELAM) 
GENERAL 

Illustrated by GAUGHAN 

Each morning he took a pill 
to help his memory. But to 
help it in exactly what way? 




by SYDNEY VAN SCYOC 




TTis eyes carefully averted, Al- 
^ bin JoHns swiped the depila- 
tory off his jaws and splashed His 
face with water. He slapped his 
ihirt shut. Then, forgetting, he 
glanced at the face in his mirror. 
It was a dark face, assertively 
Intelligent, youthfully stem. 

He blinked away, shuddering. 
His hand, lurching, cornered the 
Jug of pink capsules, shoved one 
Into his mouth. He gulped, as he 
did every morning. 

He frowned at the jug’s label. 
"One daily. For memory.” 

It annoyed him that he couldn’t 
remember why he swallowed that 
daily capsule. It seemed a purely 



automatic action of hand and 
mouth, a muscular act beyond 
voluntary control. True, some 
mornings the reason loomed mo- 
mentarily as near as that disturb- 
ing face in his mirror. But it al- 
ways slipped away. 

Usually right after he swallow- 
ed the memory capsule. 

The timespot chimed the Hour. 
Johns’s saucer thumped softly at 
the parlor window, aimouncing 
its arrival from the parking tow- 
er. Briskly, Johns strapped the 
speech recorder to his wrist, 
checking to be absolutely certain 
he had inserted a fresh capsule 
the nig^t before. 



125 




It was a lucky break, just three 
months out of news school, to be 
sent to Cleveland General Hospi- 
tal in Tac Turber’s stead. Turber 
had done the local medical col- 
umn for sevehteen years, until 
his recent illness. No one at the 
News Tribune knew how long 
Turber might remain in Florida 
on recuperation leave — perhaps 
weeks; perhaps months. If Johns 
handled Turber’s hospital feature 
well, he might be given other of 
Turber’s regular assignments, un- 
til Turber returned. 

Johns smoothed his hair ner- 
vously, resisting the impulse to 
check himself in the mirror. The 
saucer thumped again. Johns ap- 
proached the parlor, drew a deep 
breath, and hoped. 

T n vain. “Albin, I was afraid you 
-*■ had overslept,” his mother 
trilled from Washington state. 
She glowed upon his westerly 
wall, coffee cup in hand. “I was 
about to cast myself into the 
bedroom to check.” 

Limited though she was to a 
single plane, his mother neverthe- 
less tripped the circuit that turn- 
ed him defensive. “I had to order 
a clean shirt,” he mumbled, 
glancing hopelessly at the win- 
dow, so near, so far. 

Her image sharpened. "Why 
didn’t you order one last night? 
Before you slq>t?” Her face was 
much like the one & Sad con*< 

126 



fronted in his mirror, dark, as- 
sertively intelligent, promising 
myriad opinions agressively arti- 
culated. 

“I — I took care of everything 
else then. I refilled’ my recorder 
and ordered fresh shoes. Every- 
thing else.” He edged tov/ard the 
window and the waiting saucer. 

She eyed him acutely. "I sim- 
ply don’t comprehend, Albim Be- 
fore the accident, you would 
never have forgotten to order a 
fresh shirt. That’s the sort of 
thing I could have erpected of 
poor Deon. But you were always 
meticulous, Albin. I used to say, 
‘Albin is my son — Deon is his 
father’s.’ ” 

"I take a memory capsule ev- 
ery morning. Mother.” Johns had 
reached the window. He tapped 
the pane. It slid. The saucer ex- 
tended its entry hatch into the 
parlor. 

“You take a memory capsule 
every morning, yet you’re about 
to step out the window without 
even swallowing breakfast,” she 
said bitingly. “You’re more like 
Deon every day, Albin. Giving up 
your law studies for news school. 
Forgetting to order fresh shirts, 
going out without breakfast and 
then bolting a burger at some 
drop-in. Sometimes I think you’re 
trying to be your brother.” She 
leaned into the camera menacing- 
ly. "Are you trying to make it uj) 
to Deon for dying in that hideous 

GALAXY 




crash? By taking up all fiis hab- 
its, his interests?” Her eyes nar- 
rowed. “Well, are you?” 

“I — no, of course not.” Johns 
backed across the room to the 
serving counter. Breakfast wait- 
ed, seven green pills, two violet 
capsules, a wafer. Unfortunately 
his hand shook. Pills spilled 
across the carpet. 

“No, no! Don’t crawl around 
in your fresh clothes. Dial fresh 
pills, Albin,” his mother shrieked 
from llie state of Washington. 

Abashed, Johns jumped up and 
dialed. 

“I’m doing everything a mother 
can,” his mother moaned. “I su- 
pervise your breakfast every 
morning. I see that at least you 
go out the window with nourish- 
ment in your stomach.” Her fea- 
tures enlarged ominously. “Albin, 
do you want me to come there? 
Do you need your mother?” 
Johns choked. “N-n-no/” 

His mother’s eyebrows crashed 
into her hairline. Her coffee cup 
clattered. “Well! Take a tran- 
quilizer, Albin. We’ll speak again 
this evening.” With an angry 
flash, she ended transmission. 

Albin Johns breathed again. He 
jabbed a tranquiUzer from the 
serving counter and gulped. After 
a moment, he punched aspirin as 
welj. For some reason, he had a 
headache. 

Fortified, he stepped to the 
window. 



“Albin, take care,” his mother 
pleaded unexpectedly from the 
wall. “You know how I fret.” 

Sighing, he faced her, “Yes, 
Mother.” 

“You’re all I have, Albin. 
Promise.” 

Meekly he promised. Then he 
scrambled into the waiting sau- 
cer. 

He hung beside the building, 
composing himself. His mother 
harbored the notion that he had 
been injured in the saucer crash 
that had killed his elder brother, 
Deon, a year ago. It was useless 
explaining, repeatedly, that if he 
had been involved, he would have 
memory of the accident, however 
fragmentary. 

Unfortunately, he couldn’t re- 
member his brother Deon either. 

'^hat, he admitted, disturbed 
him. He was virtually certain 
Deon had not been a figment of 
his mother’s imagination. His 
father spoke of Deon too, insis- 
tently. They had even taken down 
the family album, on Albin’s last 
visit home. 

Albin had refused to examine 
his dead brother’s photo. Now he 
made excuses not to visit Wash- 
ington. Better to deal with his 
mother two-dimensionaUy. 

Composed, he took the controls. 
The saucer scudded over the dty. 
Morning smacked blue against 
the dome. 



A VISIT TO CLEVELAND GENERAL 



127 




Today he began his career in 
eames^ after years of anticipa- 
tion. He had edited his high 
sd^l paper for three years. 
Made top of the class at news 
school. He’d played newsman 
from the time he’d learned to 
write. 

He smiled, remembering. As a 
boy, he’d taken grim pleasure in 
writing up his mother’s mono- 
logues, word for word. “. . . and 
you forgot to clean your nails 
again.” ”. . . just like your father. 
You walked right out without 
leaving a message with the com- 
puter. I fretted for hours.” “Your 
brother, Albin, would never — ” 

He halted the sound track. 
Backed it Replayed. “. . . just like 
your father . . .” “Your brother, 
Albin . . .” 

The saucer wavered, bucked 
under his suddenly spastic grip. 
A tight band crushed his chest 
Sweat p>opi)ed from his forehead. 

Breathing deeply, he eased his 
grip on the saucer’s controls. 
Systematically, he loosened the 
panic-knotted muscles of his 
body. 

He had suffered occasional mo- 
ments of panic for months. Since 
the time he had supposedly been 
injured in the accident. With his 
brother. 

Deon. 

He gritted his teetti, ran tlie 
sequence through again. Accident 
Brother: Deon. 

128 



He relaxed, smiling, almost 
proud. His mother was right. His 
brother’s — Deon’s — death had 
been a disorganizing shock. Only 
time and patience could effect re- 
covery. 

He peered over the saucer rim. 
Cleveland General Hospital jum- 
bled glassy black below. Johns 
lowered the saucer to control al- 
titude. The autoguide beamed by 
the hospital’s parking system 
locked the manual controls. The 
saucer sank and swooped into the 
parking tower. 

The saucer split. Johns glanced 
around the tower, feeling a return 
of tension. The saucer snapped 
shut behind him. Johns set his 
feet to the guide arrows that 
glowed across the pavement. 

The arrows led him to a disk 
shaft. The disk hovered. Johns 
boarded. It settled swiftly. Johns 
stepped onto a second arrowed 
pavement. 

The walls converged. Johns 
faced a dark, misty corridor. He 
hesitated, frowning back at the 
guide arrows. They unmistakably 
indicated the foggy darkness as 
his route into the hospital. 

A streamer of pastel fog wafted 
from the tunnel, touched Johns’s 
nostrils. His tensed muscles re- 
laxed. He stepped into the soft, 
damp darkness. 

The floor shuddered, carrying 
Him forward. The walls glowed 
darkly, richly. The ceiling undu- 

GALAXY 




lated. A low growling rumble 
throbbed through the tunnel, the 
grumble of distant machinery, 
monstrous but benign. Rainbow- 
ed fog sank lightly and refresh- 
ingly into Johns’s lungs. 

When the tunnel floor deposit- 
ed Johns in the lobby, he was 
pleasantly relaxed', light of limb. 
A crisp elderly guard manned the 
computer console. Johns fumbled 
for press card and visitor’s per- 
mit. 

The guard fed both to the con- 
sole. “News Tribune, heh? Your 
first 'visit to Cleveland General?” 

Johns nodded, glancing uneas- 
ily around the vaulted lobby. It 
was disturbingly familiar, as if 
he had seen it before, from a dif- 
ferent angle, with the sun slant- 
ing low through the rainbow 
panes. 

The guard chuckled. “Well, 
you’ve seen our little establish- 
ment often enough on vidi. Makes 
you feel almost like you’ve been 
here in person.” 

Johns frowned. He didn’t recall 
ever catching a vidi on Cleveland 
General. But there were, after all, 
any number of things he didn’t 
remember. Despite his daily cap- 
sule. 

The guard launched him with a 
friendly thump. “The blue walk- 
strip will deliver you right to Dr. 
Jacobs’s office. Write us up 
good!” 

The blue strip slid across the 

A VISIT TO CLEVELAND GENERAL 



lobby and trundled into another 
dark, mumbling tunnel. Johns in- 
haled hopefully. His entire body 
relaxed. His head dropped. His 
knees sagged. Consciousness fad- 
ed. 

Then he stood blinking in a 
sunlit office. The receptionist, 
smiling, said, “Dr. Jacobs will see 
you immediately.” 

D r. Jacobs was an erect old 
whippet with piercing pale 
eyes. He gripped Johns’s hand 
coldly, fixed Johns with a blue- 
white gaze. “We’re sorry to hear 
of Mr. Turber’s illness. I don’t 
suppose you know the exact na- 
ture of tiiat illness, Mr. Johns.” 
“No one seems to know exact- 
iy>” Johns admitted. 

Dr. Jacobs nodded tersely. 
“And I don’t suppose you have 
ever been with us as a patient, 
Mr. Johns?” 

Johns was oddly disturbed by 
the question. “I — I’m — certain 
I haven’t.” 

Dr. Jacobs sighed, scowling. 
“Well, I suppose you’ve done 
your homework, at least. Review- 
ed Turber’s columns of the past 
year.” 

Johns nodded. The columns 
were freshly in mind, rich with 
detail, crammed with statistic, 
but eminently readable. 

“Then you know that through 
computer diagnostics and the au- 
tomated nursing ssrstem, we’ve 

129 




overcome the Human factor that 
flawed mecfical care for centuries. 
We’ve achieved perfection in phy- 
sical care. 

“But over -the years we’ve 
learned the iihportance of non- 
medical factors. Even the best in 
purely physical care is not enough 
for the anxious patient, the de- 
pressed patient, the patient har- 
ried by financial or personal wor- 
ries. And so all major modem 
hospitals maintain teams of train- 
ed social workers to lend moral 
and practical support to the pa- 
tient This facilitates an opti- 
mum rate of recovery. The pa- 
tient returns to the community 
fit to function as a fully adjusted, 
contributing member of society.” 

Dr. Jacobs’s pale eyes glittered 
fanatically. “Our senior social 
worker has consented to let you 
accompany her on her rounds to- 
day. Miss Kling remembers vivid- 
ly the day when doctors main- 
tained private practices, saw doz- 
ens of outpatients daily and 
made all their diagnoses without 
computer aid.” Dr. Jacobs spear- 
ed Johns with a stem gaze. “You 
will be free to observe Miss 
Kling’s working method, to draw 
upon her reminiscences of days 
past and to form your own con- 
clusions about medical progress 
during the past quarter century.” 

“I’m very grateful,” Johns fal- 
tered. 

Jacobs scowled, jabbed a desk- 
130 



top button. The far wall of the 
office slid. “Please step into the 
decontamination lock. Leave your 
garments and personal posses- 
sions on the shelf. Press the white 
button to release the fog. 'Then 
pull on the sterile coverall Miss 
Kling will meet you in the out- 
side corridor.” 

Johns hesitated. “I’d like to 
keep my recorder, sir.” 

“Mr. Johns, we cannot allow 
personal effects in the wards. 
There is constant danger of con- 
tamination.” Jacobs glittered 
down his long, bleak nose. “Mr. 
Turber was well able to compose 
his reports from memory.” 

Reddening, Johns stumbled in- 
to the lock. The wall sUd. Johns 
unstrapped his recorder with re- 
luctant fingers, remembering the 
facility with which Turber had 
used names and dates, medical 
terms, statistics. 

Sighing, he stepped out of his 
clothing. 

Absent-mindedly, he glanced 
down at his torso. His fingertips 
trembled unbelievingly over the 
sharp red scars that split his ab- 
domen. He stared, uncompre- 
hending. He shut his eyes, open- 
ed them again. 

The scars remained. 

Johns’s hand jerked upward, as 
if reaching reflexively for the jug 
of pink capsules on his bathroom 
shelf. 

Instead he encountered a white 
GALAXY 




pushbutton. He jabbed it, desper- 
ately. A rainbow cloud puffed in- 
to the cHamber. He inhaled heav- 
ily. 

Gratefully, Ke felt the familiar 
relief of tension. He gulped the 
cloud. He sagged, unconscious. 

^oolly fiie world returned. The 
^ ceiling glowed violetly, pink- 
ly, greenly. 

Gravelly laughter jarred into 
Johns’s pastel coma. “You suck- 
ed that happy cloud so hard I 
had to wrestle you into your cov- 
erall m 3 ^elf.” 

Flushing, Johns sat up. “Miss 
Kling?” 

She was anybody’s tough old 
granny, a beefy, red-faced woman 
with hair of steel, a strong right 
arm and a ribald twinkle in her 
eye. “That’s me. I must say 
you’ve healed up handsome, 
young Johns.” 

He stared at her blankly. 

“Don’t remember me? That’s 
how it goes — forget us the min- 
ute you leave us.” She laughed 
raucously. “Well, let’s go. I’ve got 
a workload hiat wordd kill an 
ox.” 

Disoriented, he followed her 
down a long, glowing corridor set 
at intervals with numbered steel 
doors. 

“We’ll do Ward 17 first.” She 
keyed open a steel door. 

Johns’s legs carried lum 
through the door, then turned to 

A VISIT TO CLEVELAND GENERAL 



stone. His jaw frozen, painfully. 
Sweat beaded over his suddenly 
marbleized face. 

The ward was an expanse of 
black glass floor set with a maze 
of free-standing cubicles. Each 
cubicle was fully glassed, bril- 
liantly lit, permitting full view of 
its interior. Muac streamed 
through the ward, but beneath 
lay the rumble and grumble of 
unseen machinery. Small, gleam- 
ing robots twinkled over the 
glassy floor. 

Johns groaned, unable to move. 

Miss Kling boomed with laugh- 
ter. She flourished an aerosol can 
that had been bolstered at her 
belt. A minty cloud mantled 
them. “Gulp hard, but don’t pass 
out again.” 

Blessedly, Johns’s body became 
fle^ again. The rock in his chest 
dissolved. He blinked away the 
last brittle web of panic. 

“Just a touch of trauma. Hap- 
pens to a lot of our patients when 
they come back. You start de- 
veloping a tolerance for your am- 
nesiac after a few mon^s. We’ll 
have to get your dosage adjust- 
ed.” 

Johns smiled condescendingly. 
He had never, of course, been hos- 
pitalized in his life. And the cap- 
sules he took were to improve his 
memory, not impede II But he 
felt too blissfully at peace to ar- 
gue. 

“First stop: Maternity. Don’t 

131 




w*rry — everybody’s decent.” 
CKortling ribaldly, sGe piloted 
Kin across tHe glassy floor. 

Jotins surveyed die cubic maze 
loftily. Obviously a superior sys- 
tem. EacB specimen Housed in its 
own sterile envuonment. 

MotHers napped, plucked eye- 
brows, stared at vidi. Strips of 
sensor tape, at wrists and tem- 
plea, transmitted patient data to 
tHe central monitor system. 
Mounted on eacK cubicle was a 
manual control panel. 

Miss Kling Halted before a 
glowing cubicle, cocked Her Head 
sHrewdly at the unmatemal little 
figure within. “Good morning, 
Edna,” she boomed. 

The girl splayed against tHe 
glass, an overripe little plum with 
flaming Hair and feral black eyes. 
“Youl WKere’s my kid? THree 
days you’ve told me you’d get 
him up Here next day for sure. 
Ten da3rs, and I Haven’t seen Him 
yet. First that campaign to get 
me to sign adoption papers. Hal 
TKcn you’re keyring Him till I’m 
strong enougfi to Hold Bm — you 
say. Now for tHree days tBs yack 
afa^ut Him being deformed.” 

Miss Kling chuckled blandly. 
“Now jmu know we’ve been wait- 
ing to see if He could surmve, 
Edna. We wanted to spare you 
seeing tHe little thing if He 
couldn’t live.” 

“Look, granny, I told you — I 
waan’t so dopey I didn’t see tHe 

132 



kid down in delivery. I got a good 
look. Nine pounds plus and ev- 
erything where it belongs. Lunf>i 
like a pair of bellows. A natur.il 
bom fullback. THe doctor said so 
himself. I — ” 

Miss Kling rasped prevailing- 
ly, “Now, Edna, be calm. I’ll Have 
Dr. Dover explain the cause of 
deatH to you in person. I wanl 
you to consider it God’s mer- 
cy—” 

“DeatH I” the girl shrilled. 

“ — the little fellow didn’t live 
to suffer. A single girl couldn’t 
Hope to care for sucH a terribly 
Handicapped child all by Herself. 
THe expenses alone . . . .” 

Miss Kling’s stubby fingers 
crawled over the control panel. 





Rainbow fog seeped into tKe cu- 
bicle. 

The girl’s face discolored witS 
rage. “I sure don’t need any man 
to pay my way! I’m nineteen 
years old! I make good dollars 
dancing tKe nudie circuit. I come 
and go as I please. It’s notKing 
to me Gordy ran out with tKat 
freak Gandi before I got Kim 
down to Marriage Hall.” 

Miss Kling smiled. “Dear, I 
wouldn’t presume to judge your 
morals. I’m just KKng, your old 
granny in your time of trouble.” 

TKe girl’s tirade ended abrupt- 
ly. SKe blinked stupidly and sank 
to Ker knees in tKe swirling rain- 
bow fog. “WKat. did you say? 
About my baby?” 



k V!S1T TO CLEVELAND GENERAL 



133 



“Now, you saw tKe poor little 
fellaw yourself, Edna. Poor guy.’* 
Edna sobb^ thickly. “Poor lit- 
tle kid. And it’s all Gord}r’s faultl 
He’s the one made our baby de- 
formed. He’s the one ran off — ’’ 
“Now, Edna, one of our pretty 
little nurse maclunes will come,’’ 
Miss Kllng cooed. “You’re going 
to have an injection. It’s just a 
little something we give all our 
Unwed mothers. It won’t hurt at 
all, and you won’t have to worry 
about babies for years and years.’’ 
“Won’t have to worry?’’ Edna 
Uiunnured. 

“No more about babies. Not for 
five years. Wfiy, by then you 
Xnight be married. You might ev- 
en want another baby in five 
years.” 

Edna smiled softly, curled up 
on the floor. Her hair piled scar- 
let over her face. 

J ohns stared at her, peacefully 
asleep on the glassy floor, 
awash in pastel fog. Then he no- 
ticed Miss Kling had trundled 
away. He hurried after her. “I’ve 
never heard of that particular 
law. Miss Kling.” 

“What law?” 

“That you sterilize unmarried 
mothers for five years.” 

“Who said there was a law?” 
She pulled an aerosol from her 
belt. “Air’s getting stale.” She 
clouded the air generously. 

Johns frowned. “I wouldn’t ex- 

134 



pect any individual to have pow- 
er to make that kind of dedsion 
for another individual. I mean 
— ” He stopped, blinking through' 
the pale cloud in confusion. 

Her voice poured over 12m, sug- 
gestively. “My girls are here to 
recuperate, young Johns. I don’t 
want them worrying over laws, 
or making big decisions all by 
themselves. If a girl Has learned 
her lesson, why, I forget all about 
having her injected. But if I sec 
she’s going to land herself Here 
again, get herself taken advan- 
tage of and then nm out on, 1 
give her the best protection we’ve 
got. That’s what I’m Here for, 
young Johns — to see my pa- 
tients get what they need. With- 
out Having to fret themselves.” 
The cloud had slipped into 
Johns’s lungs sweetly. Johns smil- 
ed. Then He had to wipe a tear 
from his eye. “That’s — that’s 
— ” He couldn’t express his feel- 
ings. To think that in this vast, 
impersonal institution, doughty 
Miss Kling pitched right in and 
fought for her patients 1 
“Glad you understand.” Mias 
Kling bolstered the aerosol. Slie 
halted before a cubicle contain- 
ing a slight, pale girl in Her twen- 
ties. “Good morning, Trenda. I’m 
Mabel Kling, your social caller. 
How do you feel?” 

The girl looked up listlessly. 
“I’m aU right, thank you.” Slid 
touched a tear off Her cheek. 

GALAXY 




Miss Kling beamed. "Tlie nurse 
will bring your brand new son in 
just a moment. Don’t you want 
to pretty up a little, for your first 
visit?” 

“My — son?” tHe girl said 
grojMngly. 

Miss Kling’s fingers crawled 
over tKe control panel. THe cu- 
bicle began to fog. Miss Kling 
cHuckled reassuringly. “He’s a 
real football player. Scaled near- 
ly ten pounds tfiis morning — 
' you’d swear he was a couple of 
weeks old already. Lungs like a 
;pair of bellows. And He Has a 
‘ mop of red Hair. Just like your 
Husband.” 

THe girl sat up, confused. “But 
tHe baby wasn’t even due for an- 
other three months. They gave 
me shots, but the pains wouldn’t 
stop and — ” 

Miss Kling cHuckled. “Happens 
all the time. We get girls Having 
babies months and months early. 
Sometimes Old Momma Nature’s 
adding macfiine doesn’t use the 
same math the rest of us do.” 

THe girl struggled to believe. 
"You mean the bab3r’s really all 
right? He wasn’t born too early?” 

“You can see for yourself in a 
couple of minutes. You feel up to 
hefting a ten-pounder?” 

“OH, yes/” THe cubicle was 
densely fogged. The girl’s face 
flushed with excitement. “Why I 
— I even thought I Heard some- 
one say it was a girl I” 

A VISIT TO CLEVELAND GENERAL 



They left her excitedly dabbing 
Her lips with' color, lost in laven- 
der fog. 

Johns sobbed brokenly, over- 
whelmed. 

"Now there’s a case to make 
my job worthwhile,” Miss Kling 
rumbled. “That sweet little girl 
Isdng there heartbroken, and I fix- 
ed everything up smart. By the 
time she gets the baby Home, she 
won’t even remember her sad 
hours.” 

Miss Kling launched Herself up-< 
on another patient, but Johns 
was too choked with emotion to 
care. 

Then Miss Kling checked Her 
list and nodded with satisfaction. 
“That’s maternity. Time for a 
quick tour of surgery.” She 
chuckled. “Tac Turber was a real 
surgery fan — had to run him 
through butcher alley every time 
He came out.” 

Johns felt his mouth dry omi- 
nously. 

“Coming?” she clucked. 

T T e followed Her to and through 
the glowing corridor, each 
step shakier lhan the last. Final- 
ly he blurted, “I read someplace 
that they — used to take organs 
from one person and — transplant 
them in another. Kidneys and 
hearts and spleens. I even read 
they transplanted brains — some- 
times.” 

Miss Kling keyed the door into 

135 




surgery. She eyed him narrowly. 
“WKere did you read all that?” 
“I d-don't remember. Not in 
Tac Turber’s columns.” Hopeful- 
ly he venljired, “I guess they 
don’t do much of that any more?” 
Miss Kling chuckled. “Now, 
just think. If you had one man’s 
heart, another man’s liver, and 
maybe a lobe of somebody else’s 
brain, you’d feel mighty confus- 
ed, wouldn’t you?” 

“I — yes!” The word came 
with unexpected force. 

“You can’t go out and pull 
your weight if you aren’t even 
sure who you are. Can you?” 

“I — no. No.” 

“Now, do you think our fine 
doctors are going to devote them- 
selves to turning out patchwork 
people? Sending people out into 
the world without an identity to 
call their own? Do you think old 
Granny Kling would let any pa- 
tient of hers go wandering around 
without a name?” 

“N-no. Of course not.” H» 
frowned, trying to follow her ar- 
gument. 

‘Well, then?” Deftly she steer- 
ed him into surgery. 

The floor stretched vast and 
white. The surgical cubicles were 
spacious, brilliantly lit, jammed 
with complex machinery. Wlfite 
clad figures huddled. Nurse ma- 
chines scuttered. Auto-stretchers 
bore unconscious passengers si- 
lently. 

136 



“In the old da3Ts, the average 
doctor spent so much time on 
routine, he hardly had time for a 
good day’s surgery. Now the 
mech-clinics take care of the 
coughs and sniffles; the nurse ma- 
chines bandage the cuts and the 
doctors can get down to business.” 
“I see,” Johns said, dimly, 
swaying. Blood crashed in His 
ears. His hands twitched. Unable 
to resist, he tilted his Head to 
stare at the ceiling. The pattern- 
ed white on white held dreadful, 
compelling familiarity. 

“I’ve never been here before,” 
he croaked. He couldn’t bring His 
head down. “I’ve never been in 
this hospital before. I’ve never 
seen this ceiling before. I’ve — ” 
Miss Kling jammed an inhaler 
into his nose. He struggled, then 
inhaled. After a moment, his Head 
fell. He felt suddenly sluggish', 
torpid. “I’ve never been here be- 
fore,” he muttered. 

“Of course you Haven’t,” Miss 
Kling said sharply. “You don’t 
have any scars. Do you?” 

He frowned, trying to remem- 
ber. “I—” 

‘Well, if you don’t Have scars, 
you haven’t been in surgery, 
Have you?” 

“I — no, of course not,” He said 
with relief. Then He said, queru- 
lously, “My head hurts,” 

She touched the back of HIi 
head. “Here? Where they put tlio 
stainless plate in?” 



GALAXY 




He nodded. His head pounded 
with agony. 

“Keep the inhaler in place. I’ll 
get Little Bayer.” 

She returned with a spidery 
little machine. It gripped his arm, 
injected him briskly and spidered 
away. 

The pain eased. Miss Kling re- 
moved the inhaler and puffed 
him thoroughly with aerosol. He 
inhaled, smiled foolishly, grate- 
fully. 

Miss Kling beamed upon him. 
“Well now, I bet you’re tired with 
all that walking. How did you 
enjoy your tour of surgery?” 

“Very interesting,” Johns mum- 
bled foolishly. It seemed some- 
what dim. In fact, he didn’t really 
remember touring surgery at all. 

“Ummm hmmm,” she said 
shrewdly. “Then we’ll scoot on 
down the hall to the party.” 

He followed her into the long, 
glowing corridor, smiling agree- 
ably. The party. He always en- 
joyed parties. 

Too bad he couldn’t remember 
about this one. 

T Te was a little surprised when 
she keyed the door marked 
“Terminal Ward.” 

“All our terminal patients Have 
a little party before they go. But 
it’s seldom they have dear ones 
to spend their last minutes with. 
Tac Turber’s going to be mighty 
pleased.” 

A VISIT TO CLEVEIAND GENERAL 



Johns felt mildly surprised. 
“But Mr. Turber hardly knows 
me.” 

She chortled. “You’ll be carry- 
ing on his hospital column, won’t 
you? That makes you almost a 
son.” 

He drifted through the ward in 
her wake. Patients beamed rosily 
from their glassed cases. Miss 
Kling waved and yoo-hooed. 

Finally Johns said, disbeliev- 
ingly, “These people aren’t all go- 
ing to die, are they?” 

“That’s what they’re here for,” 
she said cheerfully. 

He frowned around him, at the 
healthy, smiling faces. 

“I nursed my own mother 
through her last illness,” Miss 
Kling rasped. “Seventeen months 
I stood by, night and day. 
Couldn’t afford a nursing ma- 
chine, and I wouldn’t send her to 
a home.” 

He murmured S3rmpathetically. 

“Knew as soon as the diagno- 
sis was made she’d never recover. 
But in those days there wasn’t 
anything to do but stand by and 
watch her waste off. 

“I always remember that when 
my rounds bring me here. I’m 
proud my patients don’t have to 
suffer through that. They go out 
quick and clean, with steak and 
whiskey on the house. And they 
know if there’s any little piece 
that can be salvaged, why, our 
boys in butcher alley will find it. 

137 




TEe spirit may die, young Johns 
— but tEe tissue lives onl” 

TEey rounded a comer and 
confronted Tac Turber, glassed. 
Miss Kling rapped tEe glass, slid 
tEe entry panel. 

Tac Turber bounced from tEe 
bed, a big man, burly in Eis Eos- 
pital gown. “Well, well! Hear you 
got a promotion, JoEnsI” He 
pumped Johns’s Eand Eeartily. 

JoEns stammered, “Editor 
Downs is letting me Eandle your 
column until — until you get 
back.” 

Turber grinned. “TEen it’s 
yours for life, kid.” He wEacked 
JoEns on the back. His eyes 
twinkled. “I guess everyone’s 
heard I won’t be back?” 

“We Eeard you were going to 
Florida to recuperate from — 
whatever it is.” 

“AE, tEe stories that make tEe 
rounds,” Turber laughed. He so- 
bered. “No, JoEns, I’m joumesnng 
on to another life. A different Ufe, 
but one certainly as useful as the 
one I’ve already led. My only re- 
gret is that I won’t be able to do 
one last column. I’ve always 
wanted to write up tEe work tEey 
do down there in surgery.” He 
frowned. “But somehow it alwa3rs 
sEps my mind, once I’m back out- 
side.” 

Miss Kling said, “You can’t 
crowd everytlung in.” 

Turber shook Eis head impa- 
tiently. “No, that’s not it” He 

138 



turned back to JoEns. “There’s 
so much' excitement, Johns, so 
much to see. Sometimes when I 
get back to tEe saucer, I can 
hardly remember writing the re- 
port I’m holding in my Eand.” 
He frowned thoughtfully. “I guess 
I stop to use one of the maclunes 
in the director’s office. But after- 
ward . . . .” He shook Eis head, 
bemused. 

Miss Kling stepped out to the 
control panel. Stepping back, she 
closed the entry panel. Rainbow 
fog drifted lazily up from the 
floor. 

Turber sniffed. His frown fad- 
ed. He grinned. “Well, it’s been a 
good beat, JoEns. You don’t re- 
member the old days, the old hos- 
pitals, the fear and imcertainty 
the human animal had to endure. 
And only tEe poor or the disturb- 
ed had someone like Miss Kling 
to Eelp them out. Everyone else 
had to muddle through as well 
as he could.” 

The entry glass slid. A robo- 
table wheeled in, bearing a feast. 

Turber’s eyes lit. “Looks like 
they catered for you too, Johns.” 
He splashed Scotch into both' 
glasses, then frowned. “They for- 
got you. Miss Kling.” 

Miss Kling scowled over the 
table. Her face sagged. “They 
never think to send a whiskey 
glass for me. I go to every party 
on the ward, but there’s never a 
glass for me.” 



GALAXY 




Turber lifted a panel and 
puncHed tKe table’s controls. 
Utensils, napkins and wOIdcey 
glasses clattered out. Beaming, 
Turber poured into a dozen glass- 
es. He lifted' two. “A toast to 
immortality!” 

“A toast to your immortal liver 
and ligfits! Haw!” Miss Kling 
roared, swaying. “You know 
something, boys? I was supposed 
to plug in fr^ nose ^tens Half 
an Eour ago. And I forgot. Haw! 
I forgot my fresH filters — now 
I’m going to forget everytfiing!” 

J ohns laughed to be polite. Then 
he laughed some more. Soon 
He was bellowing and snorting in 
the swirling pale fog,, gulping the 
whiskey as fast as Turber poured. 

Then the bottle was empty. 
The steaks lay congealed, un- 
touched. There was a squeak of 
wheels, and an auto-stretcher 
rolled into the cubicle. 

“My car!” Turber hopped 
aboard. He threw himself upon 
his back, roaring with delict. 
“Home, James!” 

The stretcher molded itself 
around him. A mask fell heavily 
over his face. Turber flailed, then 
lay limp. The stretcher squeaked 
away. 

Miss Kling regarded the con- 
gealed feast regretfully. “Young 
Johns, I think I’ve forgotten 
something. But I can’t remember 
what” 

A V!S!T TO CLEVELAND GENERAL 



Johns said solemnly, “They’re 
going to cut old Tac up and use 
his parts, aren’t they?” 

‘Haw! I’ll never tell!” Miss 
Kling frowned, regarding him 
with bleary thoughtfulness. “But 
I do remember a boy. No, two 
boys. Brothers. A smart-looking 
dark kid. Just like you, in fact. 
And a big handsome redhead, a 
year or two older. Crashed their 
saucer down the skylane a piece. 
The dark one got the back of His 
skull smashed, and the redhead 
got it in the belly.” She scratched 
her cKin thoughtfully. “But I 
guess that’s about all I remem- 
ber.” 

Johns nodded owlishly. “I don’t 
even remember that much. I for- 
get it every morning at eight.” 

She nodded. Then light came 
to her eyes. “Haw!” She drew a 
small green can from Her belt. 
“My remonbering spray. I re- 
member that much. If I w hiff the 
wrong color air, I just spray my- 
self green and everything comes 
back.” She sprayed. 

Johns sniffed. It was very 
fresh, very clean, the green. He 
inhaled deeply. 

“There! Clears all the synapses. 
Or something like that.” Miss 
Kling’s facial contours firmed 
with returning character. 

t 

Tt was as if the green spray had 
penetrated forgotten chambers 
of his mind, clearing them of ob- 

139 




struction. “I remember now,” he 
said, softly. “I remember — ” 

He was low over the country- 
side at the controls of his old 
saucer. A spring day. His brother 
perched nervously on the passen- 
ger’s seat. 

His brother — Albin. His dark, 
meticulous younger brother who 
Ead stopped in Ohio on his way 
east to law school. 

He — Deon — grinned reas- 
suringly. The saucer had devel- 
oped a recurring shimmy a bit to 
the north. He was taking it low 
and slow back to tKe city. 

The sEimmy hit again. He han- 
dled tEe controls coolly. He was 
still working when the sudden, 
terrible shudder came. The gauges 
flashed peril. Alarms squalled. 
TEe controls jerked from his 
hands. 

TEey were falling. He wrestled 
the controls, uselessly. He heard 
Eis brother’s voice. “Deon, can’t 
you — ” 

Impact. A few minutes of pain- 
ful half-consciousness. He opened 
Eis eyes, saw his brother — Albin 
— sprawled nearby, a metal 
splinter imbedded in his abdo- 
men, the back of his head smash- 
ed, tEe quick, meticulous brain 
destroyed. 

Later he opened Eis eyes again, 
to watch the ambulance ship set- 
tle. TEe medic jabbed him. He 
drifted away. 

“This one took it in tEe bread- 

140 



basket,” the medic said dimly, be- 
side him. 

“This one too. And the back 
of the head. Think tHey can com- 
bine the pieces?” 

The voice beside him said, dis- 
interestedly, “Oh, they’ll patch 
something together.” 

Consciousness-remembered fad- 
ed, momentarily. 

But the green mist Had suf- 
fused the cubicle. Johns’s mind 
remained mercilessly clear, relent- 
lessly unfolding the film of mem- 
ory. He screamed, hoarsely. 

Because next he would open 
shock-blurred eyes upon the ceil- 
ing — that ceiling, white on white. 
He would roll his head, see his 
brother — Albin — face down 
upon the adjacent stretcher. His 
own stretcher would detect con- 
sciousness, would clamp its mask 
to him. Then — 

He fought as Miss Kling ram- 
med the inhaler home. Then he 
fell heavily upon the bed Turber 
had vacated. Miss Kling pulled a 
mask from her belt and applied 
it to Eis face. 

“You yourself again?” she rasp- 
ed after a while. 

“I guess so.” It seemed an un- 
fair question, since he wasn’t ab- 
solutely certain just who himself 
was. 

She removed tEe mask. A small 
mirror lay on the bedside table. 
Johns studied the dark, intelligent 
face that was Eis, yet wasn’t. 

GALAXY 




“I Have a few more calls to 
make,” Miss Kling rumbled 
tHous^tfully. “But I’m going to 
get you rigKt down to tHe Hypno 
ctiamber, before you blow again.” 

Stumbling, He followed Her 
down tHe glowing corridor to tHe 
door marked by tHe giant, Hyp- 
notic eye. 

“You step inside, young JoHns. 
THere’U be someone right witH 
3TOU. THey*!! get your memory 
pruned back tHe way it sHould be 
— cut that dead wood out and 
tfirow it away. And tHesr’ll give 
you sometHing to keep it tHat 
way.” 

He pusHed tHe door obediently. 

At tHe last moment, sHe squeez- 
ed His arm rougHly. “You’re a 
good boy, JoHns. BotH of you.” 
Her lips scraped His cHeek. 

Numbly, He stepped into tiSe 
darkened Hypno cHamber. 

■jV^inutes later — or was it Hours. 

— He sat Eigfi above tHe 
cubic jumble of Cleveland Gener- 
al, at tHe controls of His saucer. 
He put iHe saucer on auto and 
glanced tHrougH tHe papers in ]Ss 
Hand. 

Funny. He must Have used a 



machine in the director’s office 
to type the material, while it was 
still fresh in mind. But he didn’t 
remember doing so. And the stuff 
wasn’t even in his usual style. 
He’d Have some rewriting to do. 

He glanced over the paragraph 
about Miss Mabel Kling, senior 
social worker. He smiled. She 
sounded like a salty old charac- 
ter. Too bad He Hadn’t met Her in 
person. But if Tac Turber was 
still in Florida on recuperation 
leave next month, perhaps JoHns 
would be back. 

He stuffed tHe papers into tHe 
carry-bin, along with the big jug 
of violet capsules labeled, “Two 
daily. For memory.” Swooping 
into ffie clouds. He slid tHe Hatch 
to feel tHe cool breeze of altitude 
on His face. THe sun blazed. The 
skylanes stretched blue and in- 
^ting. Even at this altitude He 
could feel spring easing warmly, 
greenly over tHe eartH. 

A tHougHt flowered in His mind 
as if it Had been planted tHere. 
He examined it, smiled, and took 
it for His own: A great day to be 
alive! 

— SYDNEY VAN SCYOC 



REMEMBER 



New subscriptions and changes of 
address require 5 weeks to processi 



A VISIT TO CLEVaANO GENERAL 



141 





GALAXY • non-fact article 



THE 

WARBOT5 

by LARRY S. TODD 

Illustrated by TODD 



The history of armored war 
from 7975 to 17^00 A.D. 



the improvement of le- 
’ ’ that weapons, soldiers on 
a battlefield have sHown great 
and understandable interest in 
staying out of the line of fire. 
In early wars, where sticks, 
stones, and lances and bows 
were the main medium of battle- 
field commerce, this goal could 
be accomplished by hiding be- 
hind any bulky object, or through 
desertion. However, as time went 
on this became increasingly diffi- 
cult. Either the bulky objects 
were not as strong as they had 
been once or the weapons used 



were less aware of said barriers. 
Some soldiers adopted a rigid 
code of martial etiquette and tin 
suits, but the effectiveness of the 
knight grew limited when gun- 
powder was invented. 

In the twentieth century great 
powered suits of armor, called 
“tanks,” came into common use. 
They required a concentrated 
barrage to stop them and def- 
initely provided their pilots and 
crew a more salubrious environ- 
ment within than they could ex- 
pect to find without. Nonethe- 
less, a tank still had a great deal 



142 





The General Motors Terrain Walker 



of vulnerable places, was far too from behind any more easily 
Heavy and noisy and Had limited than the old tanks, nor could 
jmobility. In tKe 1970’s the tanks they retreat very fast. Clearly, 
wHicH were covered with boro- there Had to be something better, 
silicate fiber plates were much 

lighter and more mobile than The General Motors Terrain 
tHeir predecessors, but still lack- Walker ca. 1995 

ed ideal conditions for operation. 

THey could not wade through Originally developed for con- 
swamps nor avoid being attacked struction work and back-ecKe- 

143 



THE WARflOTS 



Ion packHorsing, tHe GM Walk- 
er was quickly accepted by the 
armies of America, Eartfi, when 
it was proved that tHe macHine 
could carry a^‘ gun. Standing 
twelve feet taU and weigh- 
ing eigKt tons, tHe Walker 
could stride down a Highway at 
30 mpH and do twenty mpH on 
rough terrain, such as bumt-out 
slums. Nuclear powered, it re- 
quired little servicing and often 
powered its weapons directly 
from its own power system. 
Great Hydraulic pistons operated 
its arms and legs, which follow- 
ed every movement made by the 
pilot. The pilot was strapped in 
a control cradle that translated 
every motion to the Walker, 
and he Had a clear view fore and 
aft through a pleaaglass bubble. 
The Walker was equipped with a 
wide range of sensory devices, 
among them snooperscopes, ra- 
dar, amplified hearing, some 
primitive smell-detection de- 
inces and tactile pads on the 
hands and feet, all of which were 
wired to the pilot. 

It was equipped to retreat fast, 
attack faster and explode when 
Hit with a satisfying nuclear 
blast. When this was commonly 
learned, there were very few en- 
emy soldiers who were willing to 
harm the things, wiBch made 
them extronely effective in clear- 
ing out potential battldfields. 
But it also made getting them to 

144 



% 

a battlefield to begin with a 
touchy proposition. Few soldiers 
liked sitting on an atomic bomb, 
even though it would only go off 
if they were killed, and a Gene- 
va Convention in 1992 declared 
them formal nuclear weapons. 

However, with the turmoil of 
the late twentieth and early 
twenty-first centuries growing 
out of hand, they were used with 
increasing frequency. 

In October, 2000, an armed in- 
surrection in Harlem City, Amer- 
ica, caused Walkers to be brought 
out into the streets. Patrolling 
the city with squads of armed 
soldiers (and their nuclear ex- 
plosion capacities secretly damp- 
ed), they effectively cleared the 
rioters out of the burning dty 
and into a large prison combine, 
where they were kept until their 
tempers were drowned in rainy 
weather. Of fifty Walkers ship- 
ped in, only two were disabled. 
One had a department store, its 
pilot had rashly pushed over, fall 
in on it; the other had broken 
legs from a kamikaze automo- 
bile. 

In November, 2000C the great 
series of civil wars in China were 
formally entered by the United 
States of America, Earth, and 
Walkers painted with ominous 
designs marched throu^ the 
burning cities and villages, pan- 
icking those Chinese who would 
be panicked and nuking those 



GALAXY 




who felt compelled to fight back. 
Four nuclear explosions in Pe- 
king were enougU to ^ow the 
Red CQnese that figHting the 
things was useless, so they were 
given a wide berth and finally 
succeeded in bottling 90% of 
the Red Chinese army in a small 
part of Manchuria, Earth. 

In February, 2002, there were 
massive earthquakes all over the 
globe. Japan sank beneath the 
sea; California followed suit; the 
coastline of Europe would never 
be the same, and America’s east 
coast was washed clean by tsun- 
ami. 

A few months later the Mis- 
sissippi Valley collapsed, creat- 
ing an inland sea in America. 
With three-fifths of the human 
race wiped out, the remainder 
lost all further interest in con- 
flict and turned to more imme- 
diate and peaceful pursuits, such 
as cleaning up after the party. 

The Walkers were instrumental 
in assisting in heavy construc- 
tion. They rebuilt the foimdations 
of cities, realigned the world’s 
power conduits, built dams and, 
in one fierce burst of zealous 
activity, built almost a hundred 
thousand miles of beautiful 
roadway in four years. Three 
years after that commercial air- 
cars were produced in profusion. 
The new roads were ignored and 
slowly cracked wlule approach- 
ing obsolescence. 



The McCauley Walker 
ca. 2130 

2130 was an eventful year. The 
first complete cities were incor- 
porated on Mars; the moon for- 
mally declared independence of 
the Four Nations of Earth; the 
first non-govermnent sponsored 
spaceship lines went into busi- 
ness, and a new Walker was re- 
leased to the antiriot squads. 

Called “pinheads” because of 
its set of electric binoculars 
(which could see from electricity 
up through the spectrum to x- 
rays) which functioned as a head, 
the McCauley Walker had far 
more flexibility than the GM. 
Nearly sixteen feet of tempered 
aluminum and borosilicates, yet 
'weighing only four tons, the Mc- 
Cauley could duplicate all human 
movements except those requir- 
ing bending in the trunk or waist. 
It could run 55km/hr, was able 
to lift objects of up to ten tons 
and turned out to be a massive 
failure. 

The McCauley Walker was a 
total weapon, designed for opti- 
mum placement of components 
in the least space. The structural 
members were cast or electro - 
blown around the defense sys- 
tems, so that it was impossible 
to deactivate them. The defense 
systems were inexorably bound 
with the machine’s own conscious 
battlefield computers. To acti- 



THE WARBOTS 



145 




Vate tHe Walker meant it would 
at once be at top fighting con- 
dition, ready to blast out with 
weapons which could not be re- 
fnoved from its Hull without ex- 
penditures of twice its original 
cost. This did not make it a note- 
worthy construction machine. Its 
one experiment in this use Had it 
firing lasers at bulldozers, grad- 
ers, solidifiers and road crews. 
The unions kicked up a fuss. It 
was obviously not a very good 
construction machine. 

Ten thousand of them were 
built at a cost of two million 
credits apiece, and it cost four 
thousand credits to maintain each 
per year, whether or not they 
were used. A fortune was spent 
on the hundred acres of sheds 
outside of Indianapolis in which 
they were housed, and it was 
here that the Walkers remained 
for ei^ty years, unused except 
for occadonal exercises to keep 
them from rusting' or whatever 
it was they did. But there were 
no wars. Riots were fairly com- 
mon, but rarely large enou^ for 
Walkers to be brought out for 
them, and never located close 
enough to an airport to have 
Walkers in on themi before they 
were effectively over. 

In 2210! the Martian Colonial 
Government declared formal in- 
dependence of the Four Nations 
of Earth and confiscated all 
Four Nation military property 

THE WARBOTS 



to see that their constitution was 
respected. It wasn’t however, for 
the Four Nations were full of 
people who would suffer great 
financial losses if Mars became 
free. So the First Interplanetary 
War was begun. 

Terran troop transports land- 
ed four hundred Walkers on the 
Syrtis Greenspot, where they 
were jeered and mocked by a 
large army of Martian colonists. 
Following the Martians out 
across the desert, the Walkers 
made rapid progress on them un- 
til the old plastic sleeves that 
kept dirt and abrasives out of 
the leg joints began to crack 
from age. Martian sand get in 
and jammed the joints, and the 
Martian Colonial Armor walked 
a safe distance around the field of 
immobile Walkers, attacked the 
Terran positions from behind 
and won their independence. It 
was never disputed again. 

The Burton Darrmthlng 
ca. 268Q 

There seemed to be little rea- 
son for the development of more 
advanced i>ower armor until 
about 2680', for the solar systems 
enjoyed a period of unparalleled 
peace, productivity and leisure. 
With great space vessels over a 
mile in diameter, powered by 
nuclear inertial drives, men trav- 
eled peai; the speed of light and 



147 





The Burton Damnthing 



eoloatzed the near stars, where took objective years. From the 
tibieir found a surprising profu- device, the human colonies could 
BM of planets. In 2548 the Heli- reap instant benefit from discov- 
unt Distant Oscillator was de- eries made 3 rears of travel away, 
vdeped, making instant inter- Many of the great C-jammers, 
steMar communication possible, as the huge interstellar vessels 
eren though actual travel still were known, were dismantled and 



148 



GALAXY 



sold after this, till only about 70 
were being used, mostly for car- 
rying great big things which 
weren’t likely to change much in 
coming years. Terraforming tools, 
multiforges (the all-purpose man- 
ufacturing tool of the day), 
great generators for increasing or 
decreasing gravitation of planets 
and moons, even little C-jam- 
mers — and colonists — were the 
major items of trade, with a few 
luxury items thrown in for bal- 
ancing the tapes. 

On the fourth planet of Procy- 
on there dwelt a race of intelli- 
gent lizards, the Kezfi, who were 
in their early atomic age when 
the human colony was set upon 
the seventh planet Moss, the 
colony, was a difficult wqrld to 
tame, and the Kezfi were more 
than delighted to trade labor for 
the secrets of making spaceships. 
This went on from 2570 to 2680, 
when Moss had a population of 
nearly ten million, three terra- 
formed moons and several rocks 
in the nearby asteroid belt that 
replaced a sixth planet The Kez- 
fi were becoming quite avid col- 
onizer$ and rather sophisticated 
in the ways of space. They began 
to Have reservations about the 
presence .of humans in their solar 
system, for these humans were 
of another star and were occu- 
pying a planet which otherwise 
would Have been Kezfic. A war 
began, and the Mossists needed 

THE WARBOTS 



a weapon which could be used 
effectively against the Kezfi. 

The Burton Danmthing was a 
sophisticated instrument. Its 
shoulder and hip joints were fric- 
tion free, being cast of amor- 
phoid iron. Just as a toy mag- 
net will cause a piece of thin 
iron to twist and bend without 
actual contact, amorphoid iron 
could twist and contort itself on 
a massive scale, controlled by 
banks of magnets and topologi- 
cal distorters, yet lose none of 
its strength and hardness. How- 
ever, due to the size of the mag- 
net banks, its use was restricted 
to the major joints, the elbows 
and knees being cloth-sleeved 
mechanical joints. 

Unlike the two previous mod- 
els, the Burton DamntHing did 
not use a control cradle for the 
pilot. Instead, the man sat in a 
large padded seat, strapped into 
assorted nerve-induction pickups. 
It was as though the Damnthing 
was his own body. 

On Armageddon, Alpha Cen- 
tauri II, animals with multiple 
heads had been discovered. Due 
to the violent ecology, tfiey Had 
been forced to develop a sense of 
perception that extended in all 
directions, to warn the major 
head about potential danger. 
Called Cohen’s Battlefield Sense, 
it was brought into the Damn- 
thing to detect lurking Kezfi. The 
lizards squawked when found 



149 




out aod never could quite un- 
derstand how their hiding places 
were located, since they were self- 
admitted experts at camouflage. 

On the right shoulder of the 
Damnthing there was a large 
socket to contain a device called 
a battleraft. It was a small, con- 
densed version of the offensive 
weapons of the Damnthing, float- 
ing on inertial and antigravity 
drives, powered by a fusion pack 
and controlled by a specially 
educated chimpanzee brain in as- 
pic. Since the battleraft was as 
effective 500 miles from the 
Damnthing as 500 feet, it re- 
moved some of the intimacy 
from death. This rightly concern- 
ed the Kezfi, who liked a person- 
al confrontation with their as- 
sassin, on the logic that he might 
be taken with them. Not being 
able to enjoy the Kezfi’s Honor- 
able Death at the hands of these 
dirty fighters from another star, 
the lizards decided to call it 
quits. And, not being proud or 
an 3 rthing, they decided further 
to let them have Moss and its 
moons, and they would stick to 
what they had been allotted. 

The Christopher Wartiot 
ca. 3250 

The Kezfi, as has been said 
and is probably known by most 
readers who have known them, 
preferred to die the Kezfi’s Hon- 

159 



orable Death and could not un- 
derstand the sending of men into 
war in armor. They assumed 
these things must be robots, then, 
since they had never been able 
to get one intact enough to study, 
so they built their own teams of 
war robots, called them and the 
human armor “warbots” and by 
3250 dedded they Had grown 
weary enough of resident humans 
to start another war. 

At the battle of Granite Rock, 
in the Procyon Asteroids, the 
Kezfi first learned about the new 
Christopher Warbot. They also 
learned the ineffectiveness of 
sending remote control robots 
into battle against manned craft. 

After a number of crushing de- 
feats, and a few surprising vic- 
tories, the final blow was put on 
the second war of Procyon when 
the C-jammer Brass Candle, 
massing 55 million kilotons and 
traveling at .92C, smacked vio- 
lently into their major colony of 
Daar es Smm, killing over a bil- 
lion Kezfi. After this impressive 
disaster, nobody, Kezfi or hu- 
man, was very willing to press 
His point further. 

The Christopher Warbot had 
no legs, but floated on inertial- 
antigrav pods which enabled it 
to work as effectively in space as 
on the ground. On its back was 
a complete service and repairs 
center for the battleraft, and on 
its front, on either side of the en- 

GALAXY 





trance fiatcH, it bore twin, electric made of amorpBoid, tKougH it 
cannon. TBe study of amorpQcs was limited to bending at tHe ap- 
Kad developed to tiie point propriate places a Human arm 
wfiere art entire arm could be would bend. Since nobody was 



THE WARBOTS 



151 




quite sure how to go about bend- 
ing the artificial arm where 
there were no joints in their own, 
this did not disturb anyone deep- 

ly- 

The only nerve pickups were 
those in the seat cushions and 
the helmet, but the soldier had 
better than ever control over the 
machine. The entire surface area 
was sheathed so that it could feel 
pain and pressure from bullet 
strikes, and thus Cohen’s Battle- 
field Sense was implemented by 
another protection device. The 
head, now attached through a 
long tentacle. Held eyes, ears, 
and other senses, and the mo- 
bility of the Christopher Warbot 
was such that it replaced most 
other forms of heavy armor. War 
was becoming less burdened down 
by killing machines. 

Greedy Nick’s Warbot 
ca. 4721 

In 3579 a stardrive was fi- 
nally developed, and Humanity 
emerged from the Slowboat Age 
to the Age of Expansion. Most 
of the C-jammers were outfitted 
with drives and used to set up 
enormous colonies in one blow, 
and since a light-year could be 
covered in somewhat less than 
two days, colonization went on 
rather rapidly. In 3900 the Culv- 
er Foundation went far beyond 
borders of human space and es- 



tablished the Antarean League 
among the ninety-four planets 
of Antares, the seventeen planets 
of Antares’s Green Companion 
star and assorted dwarf stars in 
the adjoining locality. Since An- 
tares was a d 3 mastic monarchy, 
nobody paid it much attention. 

In 4718 a scoutship of Antares 
came scuttling back to the 
League bearing great tidings of 
war, with a race of tall, rust-red 
crustaceans called Peolanti, who 
had established a small empire 
near Antares. The delightful rul- 
er of Antares, Pantocrator Nich- 
olas Cuiver the Greedy, immedi- 
ately threw a complete travel si- 
lence aroimd the League, from 
4718 to 4723, at the end of wfficH 
Greedy Nick aimounced that the 
Antarean League now controlled 
a globe of space forty light-years 
in diameter. The Peolanti liked 
to fi^t from gigantic spaceships, 
huge portable fortresses, and mo- 
bile asteroids, wifflcE dictated def- 
inite limits to their mobility. 
Greedy Nick did away with us- 
ing battleslups other than to 
transport the warbots to the bat- 
tlespaces, and let the Peolan- 
ti try and find them with their 
poor radar nets. They couldn’t 
compete, or even begin to. A 
laser beam can be used with fair 
effectiveness against a big bat- 
tleship, for at least you know 
where it is, but little dinky hard 
knots of mayhem could neither 



152 



GALAXY 













M 


















ft 



w 









^ 4 ' 






• II' 






Greedy Nick's Warbot 






be seen nor be hit very often. 

Greedy Nick’s Warbot boast- 
ed triple mayhem converters, a 
nasty weapon which could spit 
laser beams all the way up and 

THE WARBOTS 



down the spectrum, pull tricks 
with gravity that resulted in 
atomic bonds falling apart, heat 
or freeze things by time-induc- 
tion, a side effect of the discovery 



of the chronogravitic spectrum. 
The head was no longer connect- 
ed to tKe body, but floated free- 
ly and Ead its own complement 
of weapons. The- battleraft was 
Harder tEan ever to detect and 
destroy, bong controlled by a 
brain taken from an Armaged- 
don animal more vicious tfian a 
tyrannosaur and of near-Euman 
intelligence. 

Amorplucs Ead developed a 
tentacle wEicE could stretcE ten 
times its length for an arm, re- 
tract to a wrinkly nubbin, and 
yet be perfectly controllable by 
the pilot. He sat in fils cabin, 
whiicE was padded both by cush- 
ions and paragravity, free from 
being bounced around, wearing 
a Kelmet and sitting in the lotus 
position of meditation. In order 
to properly control a warbot, a 
soldier Ead to be an accompUsK- 
ed Yogi. 

The Waibots at Critter's Gateway 
ca. 7200 

While all manner of advances 
were made in tKe warbots since 
the Peolanti wars, and several 
smaller wars were fought witE 
them, there were no significant 
changes in tEeir appearance un- 
til the discovery of Critter’s Un- 
iverse. 

Eleven ligEt-years from An- 
tares there was a small dust 
cloud wlucE emitted a healthy 

154 



amount of radio waves. These 
clouds were not uncommon, so 
little attention beyond marking 
it as a navagation hazard was 
paid to it. TEen Jorj Critter, a 
prospector looking for natural 
rubies, flew into it. It turned out 
to be an area in which’ space 
had formed a side-bubble, where 
pEysical laws were somewhat 
different. The periodic table of 
Critter’s Universe held but four 
elements, a solid, a gas, a plas- 
ma and a liquid, promptly dub- 
bed Earth, Air, Fire and Water. 
While perfectly stable in their 
own little universe, subjecting 
any object made of them to our 
physical laws caused destabili- 
zation of the Fire content, which 
caused the whole mass to oscil- 
late into pure energy. Since Crit- 
ter found it was very simple to 
control this attempt to justify it- 
self to our pK 5 Tsical laws, Ke told 
Andrew the Meditator the current 
Pantocrator of Antares, about 
this new power source. 

Critter’s Universe, which is only 
about a hundred ligEt-years in 
diameter, did coexist witE a 
large section of the Terran Or- 
ganization of Star States, who, 
having learned about this, de- 
cided they should own it. TKe 
TOSS went to war witE Antares, 
the focal point of tEe war being 
around the little nebula. Critter’s 
Gateway. TOSS battlewagons 
and mobile asteroids faced over 



GALAXY 





The Warbot at Critter's Gateway 



a million warbots of Antares and Have lost regardless of wh’etKer 
soon discovered that they cotild or not the League pulled anoth- 
not possibly defeat such a swarm er trick from a Hat. 
of tiny adversaries. THe TOSS For several thousand years, 
never got wit!^ a billion miles Green Companion of Antares had 
of the actual gateway and woiild been known as a tempestuous 

THE WARBOTS 



155 



stellar bastard, constantly filling 
all space around it with radia- 
tion clouds and fouling up com- 
munications. It had several doz- 
en planets which could be very 
pleasant if th^ sim were calmed 
down somewhat, so the Hubley 
University extension at Antares 
Vert, had been established in 6200 
to seek ways of controlling the 
star. Shortly before the war, 
they found the first major ad- 
vance of macromechanics, how to 
blow a star into a nova. It work- 
ed as well on stable, main-se- 
quence stars as the huge, waste- 
ful monsters like Rigel, upon 
which it was demonstrated. The 
TOSS now realized that the 
League could seed ^eir stars 
through Critter’s Universe and 
blow them all to perdition be- 
fore an 3 ^hing could be done. 
Hastily withdrawing their forces 
from the Gateway, the TOSS be- 
gan cultivating good feelings 
with forced urgency. 

The warbot used at Critter’s 
Gateway was a very capable lit- 
tle vessel, as much spaceship as 
groimdcraft. The soldier, sitting 
in lotus, was freed of his hel- 
met. From an amorphoid plate 
at the top of the warbot, he 
could extrude a battleraft or a 
head, from two plates at the side 
he could extrude any of an ar- 
senal of two hundred weapons. 
The circuitry of these amorphic 
devices was mostly magnetic and 



gravitic domains, which could 
not be altered by any amount of 
twisting and contorting, so they 
could be extruded whenever 
needed, otherwise remaining pla- 
cid as a puddle of quicksilver in 
their storage tanks. 

Antares, while again the little 
empire of space, was also the 
most powerful, for they had over 
a million of these things strut- 
ting back and forth through 
space. 

The Quicksilver Kid 
ca. 10,000 

By the Eodech (10,000 AD) 
amorphics had developed a war- 
bot made of nothing but amor- 
phoid metals, memory plastics, 
solid liquids, contact fields and 
other prodigies of science. Nor- 
mally a simple near-globe eight 
feet big, the “Quicksilver Kid” 
looked very much like a glob of 
mercury when in action. Hands, 
head, battleraft and whatnot 
could be extruded from what- 
ever part of the surface area 
they^ould seem to be most use- 
ful, and the weapons system had 
an additional development. 

Hidden in the block-circuitry 
of the hull was a memory cen- 
ter containing records of every 
science applicable to military 
purposes, as well as a mechani- 
cal design center, so that a sol- 
dier need merely size up the sit- 



156 



GALAXY 





uation and inform His warbot to warbots sHuttled about by otH- 
create a weapon equal to it, and er spacecraft, but Had a speed of 
Hammer away. Powered by anti- about one li^t-year per Hour 
tnatter breakdown, tHe warbot to make its romu^ 

Had more tHan enougH power to In tHe Early EodecHtic centu- 
^ee tHis done. No longer were ries tHe SopHisticate Age Had 



THE WARBOTS 



157 



come about. In known space, a 
flattened spHere rougHly five 
tHousand ligEt-years in diameter, 
tKere were seventy major Human 
empires, twentyrtwo joint Ku- 
man-nonHuman^ Leagues, one 
Hundred ninety nonHuman em- 
pires and fourteen weird tHings 
wHicH defied description, save 
tHat tEey seemed to be sociologi- 
cal systems of order originally 
cooked up by sometHing wHicH 
could Have been intelligent but 
more likely was sometHing else, 
the exact nature of which was 
even more difficult to ascertain. 
But tHey never did make any 
trouble, probably because they 
found eacH otHer and intelligent 
life even more impossible tHan 
we found tHem. 

TKere were many wars in ifie 
EodecEtic centuries, but none of 
tHem especially large on tKe 
grand scale. But warbots were 
used in all of tHem. For example, 
the Korel Empire Collapse. 

THe ICorel were Human adap- 
tations, two feet tall and looking 
like toy dolls (beKaving mucH 
like tHem, too. Korel were well 
known for tKeir immaturity). 
THey Had a little empire flour- 
isHing until 10590, wKen one of 
tKeir kings went insane on tKe 
throne and attacked tKe Palaric 
States, wKicH were tKen growing 
into importance. TKe Korel Had 
a few wortKy weapons, wKicfi 
aided in tKeir conquering several 



planets, and then an ally, the 
Karpo Regime, a race of Hideou$ 
gray frogs who Had been waiting 
on tKe sly for some way to build 
a little empire. As soon as they 
Had done as much as tKe Korel, 
the Karpo turned on tHem and 
soon Had a very effective little 
empire, as well as a full time oc- 
cupation in scaring tKe border 
stars of tKe Pale (Palaric States). 

An approacHing fleet of war- 
bots, after Having been ordered to 
sum up tKe situation, performed 
a maneuver which was historical 
because of its originality. A Hun- 
dred thousand warbots came to- 
gether and fused tKeir masses in- 
to a thousand medium-sized bat- 
tlesHps, wHicK attacked the Kar- 
po fleets. The Karpo fired a sal- 
vo at them and broke tKem all 
into monolithic cKunks of wreck- 
age, which tKey tEen went in to 
investigate. Twisted wreckage, 
once it surrounded tKe Karpo 
fleet, suddenly turned quicksil- 
ver, returned to a Hundred thou- 
sand intact warbots, and destroy- 
ed forever the Karpo Regime. 

TKe Korel were chastised mild- 
ly. One could never expect mucH 
from tKem in tKe way of wis- 
dom. 

The First Alakai 
ca. 11,000 

By 11,000, enough was known 
about force-fields to expect a 



158 



GALAXY 




saldier sh'eatlied in them to have 
as mucU, if not more protection 
tfian an amorpHoid shell could 
pravide. The shell was done away 
with, except for the helmet, and 
the battleraft was equipped with 
everything that had previously 
Been reserved for the warbot it- 
self. Since the new soldier ap- 
peared to be a man, wearing a 
small belt and carrying an out- 
landish rifle, with a battleraft 
at hell and a small scrap of amor- 
pHoid called a “steel pimple” 
floating about his head, he could 
no longer be called a warbot. 
From Antarean mythology the 
name “Alakar,” meaning war- 
god, was lifted. It seemed appro- 
priate. 

The methods of battle were 
now entirely different. The sol- 
dier could fly in free space, 
though they now returned to the 
use of spaceships. His forcefields 
could protect him from the heat 
of a sun, could be totally impen- 
etrable, or set to pass either mat- 
ter or energy, but refuse the 
other. 

His body was operated on to 
the extent of surgical placement 
of wires which increased his na- 
tive strength and reflex speed 
immensely as well as enabled him 
to rigidify himself for space 
travel. 

An example of fitting meth- 
ods could be taken from the up- 
rising of Murma^ Krodd, on the 





The First Alakar 



Chembal Starstrand, 11211. 

Here a fleet of Kroddic ships 
attacked a small neighboring de- 
mocracy, and the Humanity Sol- 



THE WARBOTS 



159 



diers were requested in. TKe 
Krodds saw the human fleet ap- 
proaching, but it vanished before 
their eyes, and they could not 
understand what had become of 
it until they were .recalled quick- 
ly by Murmash fCrodd himself, 
who had seen them fall from Eis 
skies and subjugate His city in 
ten minutes. 

TKe method was this: when 
the Kroddic Fleet was sure to 
have seen the Humanity Soldiers 
approach, fliey snapped on ffieir 
helmets, activated their fields 
and took to free space. TKe ships 
broke apart in thousands of brick- 
sized chunks of amorpKoid, each 
reorganized to contain its own 
drives and control systems. TKe 
Alakars and ships did not re- 
join until in orbit of Kesal of 
Murmash Krodd, when they rain- 
ed down from the sky and forced 
the fat crustacean to order Ms 
fleet back, lest they destroy the 
planets of Murmash Krodd. 
When the Kroddic ships were all 
grounded, the Alakars set solar- 
phoeniz to them, and they burn- 
ed to radioactive ashes. 

The Second AlaHat 
ca. 14500 

The sleek Alakar of the 14500’s 
was respected as being the most 
capable fighter in space. He con- 
trolled ^ battlerafts, each a fea- 
tureless egg until ordered to think 



up a weapon to cover a situation. 
He commanded three steel pim- 
ples, wMch contained all of Ms 
force-field equipment, and, being 
strictly defensive weapons, never 
left Ms vicinity. Hi^ uniform was 
made of bioplastic with layer 
upon layer of sensory-detector 
pseudocells, wMch kept Ms brain 
flooded with such an amount of 
information that an Alakar had 
to be trained for five years. The 
helmet, often decorated with fan- 
ciful sculpture, feather crests, 
and back- curtains, could lock ev- 
ery atom of his body to a field 
that intensified the interatomic 
bond-strength to a point where 
he could withstand a nuclear 
barrage in the flesh, as well as 
do all the reflex-speedups he 
needed. Being an Alakar was 
much like being a superman un- 
der LSD, save that the hallucin- 
ations were very real displays of 
actual conditions, wMcH could 
be interpreted usefully. 

TKe hand weapons were now 
losing their physical structure 
with alarming rapidity, the great 
gaps between parts being filled 
in with a curious substance call- 
ed Link. Research in cKronograv- 
itics had led to the discovery of 
how to replace the subatomic 
bonds of matter, which were an 
effect of space, with sometMng 
that was a side-effect of time. 
TMs new matter was completely 
imdetectable and very impalpable 



160 



GALAXY 




except Hy; a certain set of rules. 

If Link were made of pure car- 
bon, one could not force pure 
carbon tBrougH it; it mJ^t as 
well be a brick wall. Carbon com- 
pounds moved slowly tBrougH it, 
growing warm as tHey did so. 
Tilings wbidi bad no carbon con^ 
tent moved tbrougb without re- 
sistance, except with tHe extreme- 
ly unlikely possibility that two 
nuclei mi^t collide, wEcH cer- 
tainly did not do very mucH. 

Link Had curious properties of 
conduction and insulation wHicb 
made it particularly desireable as 
a weapon component, notwitH- 
standing tbe fact tbat it didn’t 
take up much room. 

Tbe Second Alakar was used 
in several conflicts, among tbent 
tbe most noticeable being tbe 
Haak Wars of 14696. Tbe Haak, 
centipedean creatures from some 
obscure place in tbe galactic cen- 
ter, bad Stretched tbeir empire 
out in a most curious fashion. 
Most races preferred to expand 
in a globe, the center being 
tbeir planet of origin. The Haak 
expanded in a straight line thir- 
ty bgbt-years across. They bad a 
science of teleportation which 
could get a Haak on tbe outside 
border of bis empire, twenty 
thousand bgbt-years to tbe cen- 
ter, in two years. They did not 
do very much work with space- 
ships, beyond sending robot 
probes to land colonization re- 

THE WARBOTS 



ception booths. When tbe first 
booths of Haak began landing on 
human planets in tbe distant 
Lace Pattern, the alarm went 
out. Tbe Lace Pattern was occu- 
pied by a large number of Uttle 
human and non-buman empires, 
none very large, and because it 
was four yearn of travel from the 
Palaric States, the nearest real- 
ly organized culture, it never 
beard much from the main body 
of civilization, except from wan- 
dering ships of Alakars. In fact, 
it was not generally known tbat 
all those marvelous myths of An- 
tares, and TOSS, and Pale, and 
so on, were not fairy tales. Few 
of the Alakars v^o wandered 
tbrou^ tbe region bad ever been 
an3rwbere near the Civilization. 

Tbe entire war, though it drag- 
ged on for ten years, was hardly 
eighth-page news back in An- 
tares. 

The Final Alakar 
ca. 17500 

Even though Civilization of 
Humankind (wQcH included al- 
most every aben race that had 
ever heard of 'Terra or Antares 
Imperator) was a growing con- 
cern, it had stiU not explored 
more than ten per cent of the 
stars in its own dominion. In 
some space wbidh both the TOSS 
and Antares claimed, a new race 
bad come up and were doing 



161 




9ome exploration and state-build- 
ing on their own. The TOSS was 
willing to put up with it only as 
long as Antares gave them no 
assistance, but when the Panto - 
crator, out of tHe goodness of 
Eis Heart or whatever, started to 
assist them witK tecHnological 
gifts, it was too mucH. 

Minor races of tHe TOSS wHo 
felt endangered immediately 
went to war, minor allies of An- 
tares resisted tHem, imtil by 
i jl7485 both big empires were 
ready to blow tHeir cookies and 
have it out at one anotHer. Tfie 
race that had started tfie brou- 
haha had long since Had tSeir 
fill of imperialism, and were per- 
fectly willing to settle for wEaf 
they Had, but now it was a mat- 
ter of interstellar pride, and nei- 
ther the TOSS nor tHe League 
was going to be bested. It was 
a marvelous war. 

Antares, wHo Had always seem- 
ed to Have the last tHing to say 
insofar as weapons advances were 
concerned, finally sent a squad 
of Ultimate Alakars onto tHe 
field of tHe war. 

THe Alakar himself wore no 
weapons, tHougH He carried a 
few Hand weapons of negligible 
presence (mostly fashioned from 
Link), wore no Helmet and Had 
six steel pimples wKicH perform- 
ed all the functions of tHe Hel- 
met, as well as being able to 
operate as battlerafts. THe Ala- 



kar, upon landing on a planet 
which Had not been invaded, 
would immediately alert the ci- 
vilians to go to the public shel- 
ters Hundred of miles beneath the 
planetary crust and take all per- 
sonal valuables witH them. They 
were given twenty-four Hours, 
but during this time, since the 
Alakar was almost sure to be 
under attack. He would certainly 
be occupied. His steel pimples 
would Head for the nearest mass- 
es of amorpHoid, often automo- 
biles and private spacecraft, and 
perform a virus-fimction. What- 
ever the amorpHoid Had been 
previously would be erased; the 
pimples would realign and com- 
bine all available amorpHoid into 
great roHot fortresses, fleets of 
battlerafts and orbiting plat- 
forms, and would infect normal 
metals witH amorphic domain, 
causing entire communications 
networks to start converting into 
amorpHoid weapons. If it went 
on mainly uncEecked, within fif- 
ty Hours of commence-attack, tHe 
military command centers buried 
in the centers of tHe planets 
could expect tHeir control panels 
to swim like quicksilver and turn 
into atomic bombs. 

FigHting back, tHe planetary 
defenses would initiate tHeir own 
amorphic conversions, trjdng to 
fi^t back, and would cause the 
comm networks to fight back at 
ground level. Flotillas of plan- 



162 



GALAXY 




etaiy steel pimples would com- 
mandeer as mucfi amorpHoid as 
posable, until ^e entire war be- 
gan to resemble tHe attack of a 
viral disease upon a protoplas- 
mic organism. If tKe planetary 
defense won, tKe Alakar was kill- 
ed or forced to retreat, and tHe 
mass-computer would return ev- 
ery bit of registered amorpHoid 
on tHe surface to its original state 
(unregistered amorpHoid, sudi as 
kitcBen appliances, generally 
kept firing away imtil told to de- 
sist. Registered amorpHoid, wHicH 
Had a certain key-pattern built 
in, instantly reverted). 

If tHe Alakar won, tHe same 
tiling would be done, except iHat 
He would now control iHe planet 
and invite His forces into orbit. 
Since tHe governments of Antares 



and Toss were very similar, in 
basic policies, tKe civilians rare- 
ly cared too mucH wHo Held tKe 
upperHand, so long as tiiey were 
not too often cHanged. 

Naturally, this being a war, 
damage was done. A wrecked 
city stayed quite wrecked, tiiougH 
tiiere was rarely any loss of life. 
But recovery from an attack took 
several years, and wHen Antares 
finally bested tfie TOSS, tKey 
found tHat tHey Had a tremen- 
dous finandal responsibility to 
rebuild wHat tHey Had undone. 

Tfie Ten Year’s War left botfi 
empires quite at a loss as wHat 
to do, so finally tHey Just got 
^eir Hands dirty, devalued iHeir 
currency and rebuilt. But if Had 
been a tremendous war wHile it 
lasted. —LARRY S. TODD 



Announcing — 

THE GALAXY AWARDS 

Galaxy Publishing Corporation announces the establishment of annual awards 
for excellence In sdence-flctlon writing. Every story appearing In the magazines Galaxy 
and If In Issues dated 1968 will be eligible for the first series of awards, which will 
consist ofi 

1968 Galaxy Award 
$1^)00.00 

for the best story of the year. Honorable Mention will receive $250; the next 
runnernip will receive $100. 

The procedure by which the winning stories will be selected Is Intended to 
reflea the |udgmenl of the readers of Galaxy and If. Principal reliance will be placed 
on a mall survey of a randomly selected group of subsmlbers to the magazines In 
making the swards. QuesHonnalres asking for preferences will be circulated to these 
subscribers approximately one month crfter the December Issues appear. 



THE WARBOTS 



163 












BooUihel^ 




by ALOIS BUDRYS 



TTj^fiat is this thing called sci- 
’ » ence fiction? (I don’t 
mean I want a definition. I mean 
I want a description.) 

You faithful readers of Galaxy 
are people wHo by definition be- 
lieve tKia magazine and its sta- 
blemates constitute either all or 
part of the stream along which 
this entire genre flows, carrying 



164 




on its bosom the struggling, arm- 
waving horde of those of us peo- 
ple who in some way either con- 
tribute to or detract from it di- 
rectly, each of us dedrous, im- 
petuous to some degree, loudly 
©r quietly opinionated. Hammer- 
ing, hammering ... on what, at 
what, for what? Want some ad- 
vice? I cannot advise you. Here 
are some pebbles from the shore. 
Viz.: 

A few weeks ago, I received a 
forwarded package from the 
Galaxy office, much like any 
other in which books come. This 
particular one had originally 
been addressed to Mr. Frederick 
Pohl, Worlds oi IF. Science Fic-‘ 
tion, which is a little unusual, 
but not too much so. (People 
hardly ever spell Fred’s first 
name right, so I thought little 
about it) 

Inside was a book from Little, 
Brown & Company, one of the 
proudest names in American pub- 
lishing. And in among the flyleaf 
I found the letter, which I quote 
in its entirety: 

“Mr. Edward L. Ferman, 
Eklitor 

Fantasy & Science Fiction 
347 East 53rd Street 
New York, New York 10022 
“Dear Mr. Ferman: 

“This spring Little, Brown 8s 
Company is publishing a book 
for older children, MAROONED 
IN ORBIT, in which you and 



your readers might be interested. 

“I enclose a complimentary 
copy of the book and if you have 
any comments about it, I would 
appreciate hearing from you. 
“Sincerely yours, 

John G. Keller 
Manager 

School 8s Library 
Department.” 

Tl^ell, I assume Ed Ferman got 
somebody else’s mail, and 
I assume I can reply on Fred’s 
behalf if not on Mr. Ferman’s. 
Here goes: 

"Dear Mr. Keller: 

“I’m replying publicly because 
you are fair game. Believe me, 
the comments I might make pri- 
vately would pale into insigni- 
ficance those I am about to 
make here. 

“Mr. KeUer, MAROONED IN 
ORBIT barely contains dialogue, 
much less sensible narrative or 
any coherent structure of scien- 
tific facts. It would corrupt the 
dull and bore the intelligent 
child. I say *would,’ hopefully, 
but in fact it is already in circu- 
lation, committing both these 
sins, in the names of Little, 
Brown and science fiction, which 
I respect above many other re- 
spectively competitive things. 

“Mr. Keller, you must recog- 
nize this work as a lightly dis- 
guised lecture on science. But 
why do you assume it is good 

165 



GALAXY BOOKSHELF 




sdeace? Perhaps it seems valu- 
able to you because it is sucti 
crude medicine. But if unpala- 
tability seems a logical test for 
content why isn’t it equally true 
diat if the author, Arthur W. 
Ballou, manifestly can’t organize 
facts entertainingly, he may not 
Gave a very organized grasp of 
icience either? 

“Surely, in Boston, city of 
science, there are science writers 
and editors — some available to 
you at the lift of a finger — 
who might Have told you this. 
Many of the brightest intel- 
lectual lights of the arts and 
pcienccs are not only within a 
stone’s outcry of your window 
but are equipped, as well, to 
tell you it’s bad judgment to 
launch Ballous into a field that 
bas Heinleins and del Reys, Ju- 
venile science fiction is a nearly 
perfected art, thanks to such men. 
Why have you chosen to start it 
over? 

“Cordially, 

A Friend.” 

i¥7 sample The Second: 

^ Periodically, I am visited 
with the products of wHat I 
call, generically, Winklequod 
Press. Winklequod Press — and 
tiieir emulators at Punchem Sil- 
ly 8 g Blind, Wringem Drye, and 
Ne Plus Ultra Impressions — 
are printers for hire to anyone 
with a sound credit rating. They 

166 



are also operators of subsidiary 
publicity and book manufactur- 
ing services, limited distribution 
facilities, and some kind of cler- 
ical force. 

Their product comes with a 
two-color cover done in some- 
one’s best high school art class 
line drawing style. On the back 
of the book is, always, a small 
town wedding photographer’s 
portrait of the author. Gentle- 
man or lady, the author peers 
earnestly into the reader’s eyes, 
over a lengthy bank of type list- 
ing his or her credentials as a re- 
tired person. When these retired 
persons have strong convictions, 
and the convictions have to do 
with politics or flying saucers, 
Winklequod sends their work to 
me. 

What comes in is ostensibly a 
novel about the future revolu- 
tionary takeover of the U.S. for 
the benefit of all mankind. The 
revolution is either left or right; 
makes no difference, since the 
thinking is usually interchange- 
able in large part. Or else its 
about someone’s ride in a fl 5 ring 
saucer. And again, the thinking 
is nearly always exactly like that 
in all other books of its kind. Ex- 
traterrestrial people with noble 
thoughts have a limited ability to 
generate concepts. 

Winklequod sends me these 
putative fictions because they 
have promised the publisher — 



GALAXY 




t£at is, autKor — l£at they 
will publicize lus book for him 
by sending it out for review. I 
don’t believe they even wonder 
why I never review the books 
they send. They Have little fi- 
nancial interest in wondering 
and in any case they don’t know 
I’m alive. I’m just another item 
on a list they keep in a folder 
labelled “sf” or “Saucers,” which 
they turn over to the clerk who 
touch-types the labels. 

What I’m trying to say to you, 
prospective Winklequod custo- 
mer, is that it’s no good. If you 
can’t get a commercial publisher 
to take your work, then rightly 
or wrongly this is a clue that it’s 
been judged to fall short of cer- 
tain standards. No one is quite 
sure what those standards are, 
but they exist, and they are the 
same as those which place Char- 
les Eric Maine here, and J. C. 
Ballard there, only for you they 
apply somewhat more drastical- 

’y- 

Give up. I will never review 
your book. I have never reviewed 
your books when other people 
wrote them. If I have not in three 
years given the slighest sign of 
willingness to perform the act of 
reviewing them, and Winklequod 
nevertheless persists, what price 
Winklequod’s promotional efforts 
on your behalf? I Have never 
seen a review of any Winklequod 
Press book by any other critic 



in any other field. Think haw 
many places your money is be- 
ing pumped down rath'oles. For- 
get it. You can’t get through tfiia 
way. 

TTarking back to Edward Fer- 
man, and standing on much 
firmer literary ground, here’s 
evidence of an intelligent, organ- 
ized, persistent and honorable 
and yet different description of 
science fiction. 

Mr. Ferman is tiie editor of 
The Best From Fantasy and 
Science Fiction, Seventeenth Se- 
ries (Doubleday, $4.95). FfisSF 
is that magazine, with the an- 
tique finish covers, that you find 
on sale somewhere near this one. 
Among the names on its cover 
are some you reqognize. Altogeth- 
er, it seems unlikely you haven’t 
at least picked up a copy and 
leafed through it. 

Some of the stories by unfa- 
miliar names might Have been 
the ones below: 

“Cyprian’s Room,” by Monica 
Sterba, is ostensibly a story of 
love, but in fact it’s a story about 
reality, using devices vaguely 
similar to those in Phil Dick’s 
novel. The Three Stigmata of. 
Palmer Eldritch, in whi(£ a 
character in the story becomes a 
character in and the author of a 
story being told within the story 
of what may or may not be a 
story about love. 



GALAXY BOOKSHELF 



167 




George Collyn’s “Out of Time, 
(Jut of Place,” is a well written 
story — nearly all F&SF stories 
siiew a commendable style of 
EnglisH — and an excellent piece 
of arranging, %bout an astronaut 
wlio, returning fifty years out of 
pliase witH the rest of tSe world’s 
time, falls in love with and mar- 
ries the world’s most notorious 
woman. When Ke learns wKat she 
is, Ke kills Her. WitK Her, Ke kills 
200,000,000 of tKe women plugged 
into Ker via electronic tuners. 
Ttus latter news, wKicH Kooks up 
into tKe gut, is deKvered almost 
casually. And tKe meat of the 
unruffled Kero’s last line is: “ . . . 
tKose . . . people Kad deprived the 
entire Human race of its dignity,” 
wlficK is true, but not quite dra- 
imatically equivalent to wKat 
passed between Don Jose and 
Carmen. 

TKe orientation of stories sucK 
as tKese appears to be away 
from tKe acts of Man and to- 
ward Kis formulations of tKem. 
Rationally, a story like Collyn’s 
goes deeper tKan wKat Georges 
Bizet — or Prosper Merrimee— 
was concerned witK. And Carmen 
is an incredible piece of bombast. 
Yet Georges wrote some toe- 
tappin’ tunes, while George can 
be seen to have thought clearly. 

Victor Contoski’s “Von Goom’s 
Gambit” offers an example. It’s 
laden with great lines, including 
the one about the woman wKo 



gave birth to twins. What she re- 
sponded to in that wise was be- 
ing confronted by a repulsive 
chess gambit. Repulsive because 
Von Goom, its first promulgator, 
was capable of thinking in ways 
so alien to Man tKat they could 
be clearly expressed even via tKe 
supposedly conventionalized for- 
mat of the chess game. 

Surely, what Contoski does 
with this supposition is not wKat 
A. E. Van Vogt would Kave done 
with’ it, though it approaches 
wKat Hemy Kuttner and C. L. 
Moore did in The Fairy Chess- 
men. Contoski’s gambit is more 
elegant, more portable tKan 
“Lewis Padgett’s” version of a 
response to this opening. WKere- 
as the novel Kas to be walked 
around, and through, you can 
tell the Von Goom story as an 
anecdotal jest to pass a few idle 
moments over a real chessboard. 

A mong better-known writers’ 
contributions to this Kook 
areAvram Davidson’s “Bumber- 
boom,” a waning-EartH story 
with excellent detail and, as is 
usual in the genre, no great res- 
olution. Samuel R. Delany’s 
“Corona,” Fritz Leiber’s “TKe 
Timer Circles,” Brian Aldiss’s 
“Randy’s Syndrome,” and Ron 
Goulart’s “Fill in TKe Blank” 
are all good examples of wKat 
these people can do, and all but 
the Goulart combine to form the 



168 



GALAXY 




group of tlie only stories men- 
tioned by title and author on 
the back jacket copy. Clearly, 
Doubleday thinks it knows what 
sells. 

Russell Kirk is in this book, 
though, with “Balgrummo’s 
Hell,” an elegantly written story 
which, sadly, repeats H. P. Love- 
craft and a dozen other people 
when it comes to content. It 
does no better than they do at 
getting the essential aftertaste of 
Masonite out of the filigree sand- 
wich. And Robert Nathan’s “En- 
counter in The Past” is precisely 
the same as “Digging the 
Weams,” which' is to say that it 
is formulated in excellent prose 
around an extremely simple phil- 
osophical assertion. That’s al- 
ways the problem with getting 
stories from educated people, 
they tend to have bright ideas 
without knowing those ideas have 
ever been touched on before, but 
they have; they Have, down in 
the depths where the Hacks ply 
unread. 

The difference between writers 
who are respected by The Parti- 
san Review, or who could be re- 
spected by it, and those wriiters 
who could not, is not one of in- 
telligence or even of storytelling 
ability. The essential thing that 
sets Russell Kirk and Robert Na- 
than apart fromi Robert Bloch 
and Arthur C. Clarke is that the 
latter willingly study the former, 



whereas the former study their 
educations. 

So this collection from F6 eSF 
contains two kinds of stories, re-> 
ally, although the standards of 
writing are uniform, and high, 
and the grasp of facts appears 
to occupy an - acceptably even 
range no matter whether it lie 
Kirk or Arthur Jean Cox whose 
story we’re considering. One kind 
of story is by people who are en- 
gaged with life and use facts 
to grapple with it and explain 
it; people like Delany, Leiber, 
Aldiss, and Davidson, for exam- 
ple and for all they do it in 
strikingly different ways. Another 
kind of story is by people who 
are engaged in some form of pro- 
fessional contemplation, be it as 
educators, poets, philosophers or 
whatever. Those people tend to 
grapple with words and other 
symbols not as tools but as things 
in themselves. So they write dif- 
erently, and they think differ- 
ently. Somewhere in the area of 
this distinction is where this col- 
lection, and all collections from 
F&SF, get their distinctive fla- 
vor, in some wa 3 rs like that of all 
science-fiction media, in other 
ways very much individualized. 
It’s characteristic that F&SF it- 
self published, and included Here, 
a story that touches rather ef- 
fectively on this whole business 
— it’s an effective touch, but not 
too good a story — Thomas M. 



GAIAXY BOOKSHELF 



169 




DiscH’s “Problems of Creative- 
ness.” 

N ow, on tSe oiHet Hand, Ana- 
log 6, edited by JoHn W. 
Campbell (Doubleday, $4.95), is 
equally distinctive, equally r^re- 
sents a clearly recognizable 
brandH of tHe same Big Water in 
wbicH we all dwell, and yet could 
Hardly be pointed in a more op- 
posite direction. THe tKing Ana- 
log Has for sale above all otHers 
is ingenuity. THere are all kinds 
of stories in this book, from Bob 
Shaw’s classic “LigHt ctf OtHer 
Days,” wHicH tends to make 
people weep, to Alexander B. Ma- 
lec’s “10:01 A.M.,” wfiicH gives 
me tHe same feeling I got wHen 
Dick Daley told CHicago’s cops 
to sHoot But tHougH one is poet- 
ry and its polar oppoate is raw- 
bloody-throated reaction, eacH is 
based on Hard tHougHt about a 
tKing . . . “slow glass” in one 
case, vehicular traffic manage- 
ment in tHe otfier. And I tHink 
this was the criterion tHat caused 
Campbell to buy them and to 
anthologize them; before they 
could even begin to be written 
down, the writer Had to have 
created and resolved a complete 
speculative situation in his head. 
(You can do eight chapters of a 
good novel about a Haunted 
house before you even Have to 
begin thinking where it will go. 
In fact, you can finish an accept- 



able novel about one without 
ever thinking.) 

You see the difference. In the 
one collection, many of the stor- 
ies are written to a standard 
which provides that words make 
a story. In the Analog book, the 
credo is that story makes words 
(and “story" is defined some- 
what differently, as well). 

Yet, both collections are from 
leading science-fiction magazines, 
and both magazines deserve to be 
clashed as leaders. So does 
Galaxy. So does If. In fact, there 
are precious few sf magazines 
wtucH are not leaders in this field, 
wQcH raises the question of how 
can we all possibly be going 
wherever it is? 

The ultimate resolution must 
lie in what the autHors do. More 
accurately, the ultimate resolu- 
tion at any selected moment must 
depend on what the authors have 
done for that moment. 

Take a story like “Letter From 
a Higher Critic," by Stewart 
Robb. This seems to have been 
inspired by Campbell’s campaign 
against literati. Yet what it is is 
“Digging the Weans” with its 
sleeves turned out, and I don’t 
see how you could find people 
much more anti^etically placed 
than Robb and Nathan. 

Take a story like “Bookwom, 
Run!” by Vemor Vinge, wEicH 
staggers along on a collection of 
mismatched plof cliches t£at 



178 



GAIAXY 




cannot possibly liave been !n> 
tended from tbe start and are 
symptomatic of a Campbell 
story wHicb Has not quite been 
tHougfit out all the way before- 
Hand. NevertHeless, it’s a mem- 
orable story, because its cKim- 
panzee Here, like Algernon tHe 
mouse in Daniel Keyes’ FfitSF 
story, is an inspiring organism 
v^o owes His consciousness and 
ultimate doom to tHe interven- 
tion, and to tHe motivations, of 
mankind. And ultimately tHe 
F&SF story was about acts 
and tliis ASF story is tHe lesser 
of tHe two, being about words. 

A nd so on. WHere are we? Rob- 
in Scott’s “Early Warning" 
sa3TS it is impossible to watcH tHe 
watcHers. Gordon I^ckson’s “Call 
Him Lord” says tHe watcHers 
Have a word for it. Scott’s is 
about words, and an action story 
sHouldn’t be about words. Yet 
Dickson’s is an action story 
about acts wBcH culminate in 
words, and it’s good. Not per- 
fect, but good. It says tKat cow- 
ards cannot administer ... an 
everyday reality tfiat someHow 
doesn’t get said very often . . . 
and it sets its premise in tHe fu- 
ture, wHen tfle cadet rulers of tHe 
Universe must first prove tHem- 
sdves against tHe rural stand- 
ards of old, neglected EartH. It’s 
a parable, you migHt say. And 
tEen, just before you decide it 



migHt tend to describe sometHing 
about today’s sf, you realize it 
in no wise needs to Have been 
an sf story at all, being about 
tHe rites of passage and tHus on 
a subject as old as tHe caves. But 
Dickson is a professional sf 
writer, witH sf contacts and an sf 
audience, so it’s an sf story, in 
a good collection by tHe famous 
editor of a leading science-fiction 
magazine; Ubraries will carry 
it, cHildren «rill read it, enjoy 
it, take it to Heart Some of tHem 
will emulate it, and anotBer writ- 
er will add His (supposedly) in- 
dividual opinion to tHe descrip- 
tion of science fiction. 

WHere are we? Cyprian . . . 
are you tHere, in tHe ligHt of 
otHer days? 

— ALGIS BUDRYS 



wot POSTMASWi smEsrs : 

Mah Those^^^Gxmffats 




, |MMimiTiirmp»Ti 



GALAXY BOOKSHELF 



171 




BEHIND THE 
SANDRAT HOAX 



by CHRISTOPHER ANVIL 




Illustrated by SAFRANI 



Hail to Science the remorseless 
foe of all ignorance and superstition 
— and the evidence of one's eyes! 



I 

R edrust Northeast Bunker, New 
Veirus, July 17, 2208. Sam 
MatKews, missing converter tecK- 
'nician from tHe KalaHell Solar 
Conversion District, was today 
admitted to Redrust Medical 
Center. MatHews’s sand-buggy 
overturned May 17, in the middle 



of the Waterless Kalahell Desert. 

Date: July 19, 2208 

From : Robert Howland, Director, 

Kalahell Conv. Dist. 

To: Philip Baumgartner, Direc- 
tor, Redrust Med. Cen. 

Subject: Sam MatKews 
Recode: 083KCrm-l 
Phil: Hope you will patcH 



172 



Mathews up and get him back 
to us as soon as possible. We are 
eager to learn How MatHews sur- 
vived two montEs in tHe KalaBell, 
starting witH two one-quart can- 
teens of water. 

Date: July 20, 2208 
From: P hilli p Baumgartner, Di- 
rector, Redrust Med. Cen. 

To: Robert Howland, Director, 
KalaHell Conv. Dist. 

Subject: Weak Patient 
Recode: 083kcRM-2 
Bob: Sorry, there’s no question 
of getting MatHews back to you 
quickly. WitH a sHeet and blanket 
over Him, you still see His ribs. 
Besides, He’s incoHerent. 

July 22, 2208 

Howland to Baumgartner 

083KCrm-3 

PSl: I Hope you will listen 
carefully to every incoHerent word 
MatHews speaks. Please bear in 
mind, we found His overturned 
sand-buggy, witH water tank 
burst, f/iree Hundred miles from 
Redrust Northeast Bunker. THere 
is no known water in between, and 
the vegetation is dry as dust frond 
April to Ocnovdec. How did lie 
do it? 

I August 24, 2208 
Baumgartner to Howland 
083kcRM-4 

BoH; Sorry this reply is late. 
Our supply ship cracked up on 

BEHIND THE SANDRAT HOAX 



its last trip, with' a crew of four 
and nine offworld tourists. We 
suddenly had eleven badly burned 
men to care for, and little time 
for MatHews. However, we will 
see if we can leam an 3 rthing for 
you. 

I August 30, 2208 
Baumgartner to Howland 
083kcRM-5 * 

Subject: Pure Lunacy 
Bob: Sorry, but we’re sending 
MatHews to Verdant Hills Medi- 
cal Center. THeir facility is big 
enough to Handle his case, I think. 
If not, they will send him to 
Lakes Central. Too bad, but He 
went througH quite an experience, 
as you realize. 

Purgatory 2, 2208 
Howland to Baumgartner 
083KCrm-6 
Subject: Nut Stunts 
Phil: Yes, I realize what Math- 
ews went through: He crossed 
three hundred miles of desert on 
two quarts of water. That’s wHat 
I’m trying to Fmd out about. 
From the Heading of your mes- 
sage, I take it MatHews Has gotten 
“mentally unbalanced” now it’s 
time for Him to go back on duty. 
Look, PEil, try to remember, 
MatHews is a case-hardened 
“sandrat” of long experience. This 
is not your average patient. You 
let a sandrat get His chosen angle 
on a situation, and He will stand 

173 




it on its head. Don’t send Math- 
ews to Verdant Hills. Hold Kim 
till the cyclone pack goes tKrougB 
Here, then send him to us. And 
PHil, will you tell me wEat MatE- 
ews said about His experience? 
This is important to us Here. 

Purgatory 16, 2208 
Baumgartner to Howland 
083kcRM-7 

Robert: In dealing witH my 
own patients, under treatment at 
this facility, I rely on my clinical 
judgment, balanced by tHe pro- 
fessional opinion of my staff, and 
not on sandrat amateur psychol- 
ogy. MatEews Has been released, 
for observation at Verdant Hills 
Medical Center. And I am not at 
liberty to divulge conndential de- 
tails, from tHe closed files, on this 
case. Note, please, that this com- 
munication is the 3 th transmis- 
sion of a series, repeated period- 
ically over land-line central cable, 
and by semaphore across fault- 
^aps, crush-zones, and landshilts, 
and that transmission between 
remote penpheral stations may be 
delayed during periods of intense 
meteorological or seismic activity. 

Hell 14, 2208 

Howland to Baumgartner 
083 KCrm-8 

Dear Doctor: I wonder if, in tEe 
full wisdom of your clinical judg- 
ment, balanced by all lEe pro- 
fessional persoiuiel on your staff, 

174 



any of you qualified people Had 
tHe wit to try to put yourselves in 
tHe place of your lowly sandrat 
patient, and see How t^gs looked 
to himP WEat does your clinical 
judgment tell you about someone 
wHo Has spent years in tHe dust- 
bowl of tHis poverty-stricken 
sandpit planet? How will tHis 
sandrat react wKen He gets tHe 
cHance to be sent, free of charge, 
to a comparative Garden of Eden, 
provided He can just prove he’s 
nuts? I won’t waste breath de- 
scribing the stunts some of these 
birds Have staged, just to get back 
to BonescorcH for a week. And 
far be it from me to pry into tHe 
confidential privileged communi- 
cations between you and one of 
my best tecKnicians on a matter 
vital to the KalaHell Conversion 
District. No. Better tKat my men 
should die of thirst when tHeir ve- 
hicles give out than that you 
should open your closed files. 
Sony if my message seemed im- 
professional, PHil. Forgive me for 
presuming on our former friend- 
ship. Note, please, that ttus com- 
'munication is the 6th transmis- 
sion of a series. . . . 

Date: Hell 30, 2208 
From: Philip Baumgartner, Di- 
rector, Redrust Med. Cen. 

To: Quincy CatKcart, CHief of 
Medical Services 
Subject: Interservice Friction 
Recode: 082RMmc-l 



GALAXY 




Sir: I am sending separately a 
record of my recent correspond- 
ence with Mr. Robert Howland, 
Director of the Kalahell Solar 
Conversion District As the cor- 
respondence will show, a differ- 
ence of opinion regarding medical 
treatment of one of my patients 
has caused some friction between 
us. I call this matter to your at- 
tention because of recent failures 
in certain electrical facilities at 
the Redrust Medical Center. 
These power failures, of precisely 
thirty and sixty-second duration, 
have formed a pattern which it 
seems to me could not be random. 
I do not accuse Director Howland 
of being the cause of this serious 
interference, but I feel that this 
matter should be investigated 
without delay. I would appreci- 
ate your assistance in this matter. 
Note, please, that this communi- 
cation is the 2 th transmission of 
a series, repeated periodically. 

Date: Salvation 6, 2208 
From: Quincy Cathcart, Chief of 
Medical Services 
To: PElip Baumgartner, Direc- 
tor, Redrust Med. Cen. 

Subject: Ego Reduction 
My boy, if I were a purely con- 
ventional Chief of Medical Serv- 
ices, I would have your jackass 
Hide drying in the breeze this 
minute; but it is your great good 
fortune that I Have a large capa- 
city for suffering fools gladly, and 

BEHIND THE SANDRAT HOAX 



also am somewhat short of re- 
placements for you at the mo- 
ment. You have committed three 
really outstanding stupidities. 
First, you have “pulled rank” on 
an equal. You may regard your- 
self as enormously superior, men- 
tally, socially, and professionally, 
to Director Howland, but kindly 
observe that Director Howland is 
Director Howland. Kindly do not 
increase my difficulties by your 
ineffectual efforts to snub those 
to whom you are not superior. 
Second, if you do try it, show the 
forethought not to commit the 
additional stupidity of voluntarily 
doing it in fully documented 
form, where anyone may see your 
ego, complete with scalpel, stetho- 
scope, and halo, spread-eagled in 
all its glory. Third, when you 
have done it, do not expect me to 
get you out of the mess. Just ex- 
actly what do you propose that I 
do? Suppose I should take thi$ 
matter up with the Chief of Pow- 
er Production? As He is just as 
busy as I am, or almost so, he 
will be in an equally irritated 
mood after examining the records. 
Certainly, He will request Director 
Hovdand to check this power in- 
terruption. However, you may 
count on it, the field of power- 
supply zionids, or the theory of 
tertiary trilovolt transmission 
zone interactions, or whatever 
may happen to be involved, will 
be so abstruse and complex that 

175 




neither you nor I will Have any 
idea whether wfiat follows is jus- 
tice, persecution, or tfie operations 
of someone’s sense of Eumor. 
Kindly note tfiat I am not inter- 
ested in becoming involved in this, 
particularly since tEis power in- 
terruption obviously does not risk 
your patients’ well-being, or you 
would plainly and unequivocally 
say so. All it is doing, tEerefore, 
is to sweat your ego, and far be 
it from me to interfere. Permit me, 
however, to make a suggestion. 
You, obviously, Eave two main 
alternatives: a) You may demand 
in an autKorative way tKat Direc- 
tor Howland come to Beel Eke a 
chastised dog. In tfiis case, I 
strongly suspect tKat tKe Director 
will suddenly discover tEat your 
difficulty shows tKe danger of in- 
cipient overload of tKe flamitic 
leads of tKe intercontinental pow- 
er net or sometKing equally nice, 
and a disaster team will descend 
on you and make your present 
discomfort look like Keaven; b) 
Alternatively, you migEt send a 
simple manly note of apology for 
your EigKflown missive of Pur- 
gatory 16tK, explaining wKat is 
doubtless tKe truth’, tKat you were 
overtired. Express your willing- 
ness to Kelp solve the problem. I 
fully authorize your opening tKe 
files for this purpose. I await witH 
interest tKe results of your joint 
investigation of tKis matter, as I 
frankly would Eke to know Eow 

176 



any hunian could cross three hun- 
dred miles of the Kalahell Desert 
alone on foot, starting with just 
two quarts of water, and with 
notEing between him and his des- 
tination but dried-out vegetation 
and dust. I am setting additional 
inquiries in motion on this matter 
and advise you to start your in- 
vestigation promptly, if you wisK 
to receive credit for tKe solution. 
Note, please, that this communi- 
cation is the 4 th transmission oi 
a series, repeated .... 

II 

ate: Salvation 14, 2208 
From: R. Stewart BelcKer, 
Director, Verd. Hills Med. Cen. 
To: Quincy CatHcart, Chief of 
Medical Services 
Subject: Sam MatKews 
Recode: 081mcVN-2 
Sir: In answer to your inquiry, 
yes, we had a patient by the name 
of Sam MatKews Eere. He arrived 
from Redrust Med. Cen. in a spe- 
cial reinforced straitjacket, and 
we sKipped Kim out in a padded 
cocoon. As for his condition — 
well — if you will permit me to 
drop tKe usual lingo, this fellow 
was stark raving nuts. I would 
Hesitate to try to pin it down any 
closer. We sent Kim straight to 
Lakes Central. He got Kere Pur- 
gatory 16tK, and we got rid of 
Kim on tKe 18tK. Note, please that 
Ms is the ^ th of a series. . . . 




GALAXY 




Date: Salvation 15, 2208 
From: Martin Merriam, Director, 
Lakes Cen. Med. Cen. 

To: Quincy CatKcart, CEief of 
Medical Services 
Subject: Sam MatEew. 

Recode: 082mcLM-2 

Sir: Yes, we do Have a patient 
Here named Sam MatBews. Mr. 
MatKews is under treatment at 
our Outpatient Clinic. His case is 
Highly interesting, and, I think, 
offers many insights into the na- 
ture of religious fanaticism. You 
see, MatKews was employed for 
years as a tecKnician, tending so- 
lar-conversion units out in the 
Kalahell Desert. One day, while 
far out, an imezpected tornado 
hit, his sand-buggy overturned, 
his water tank burst, and he 
found himself isolated in tHis wat- 
erless desert. The psychic shock 
must have been formidable. Tch- 
nudi, who is handling his case, is 
slowly bringing the infraconscious 
symbolism to the surface; but, of 
course, the process cannot he hur- 
ried. Subjectively, Mathews evi- 
dently experienced a vision, which 
left him convinced he was under; 
the care of a being called the 
Prophet of Awaslu. Tchnudi, by 
the way, finds an intriguing sym- 
bolism in the name of tHla proph- 
et.” By the time Mathews 
emerged from the desert, the 
whole tiling was quite real to Hitn- 
However, his latent fanaticism 
only burst to the surface when he 

BEHIND THE SANDRAT HOAX 



was told that he was to be genC 
back to the Kalahell. Instead, Bq 
insisted that he go on to the 
“promised land,” as the Prophet 
had commanded Him. This inci- 
dent, I think, offers many possi- 
bilities for theoretical insights. 
Tchnudi is treating the psychosis 
by what might be called “psy- 
chiatric hydrotfierapy.” The pa- 
tient is encouraged to swim and 
boat and is responding quite well, 
despite occasional relapses. We 
have high hopes of achieving an 
eventual cure. Note, please, that 
this 'message is the 6 th ... . 

Salvation 23, 2208 
Cathcart to Baumgartner 
081rmMC-3 

Subject: Sam Mathews 

Well, my boy, I would like to 
know the results of your investi- 
gations thus far. Note, please, that 
this message is the 4 fh . . • • 

Salvation 24, 2208 
Baumgartner to Cathcart 
08lRMmc-4 

Sir: I can only say that Math- 
er was incoherent when he ar- 
rived here and iinsane when he 
IdFL 

He appeared to be progress- 
ing nicely, but our treatment was 
interrupted by the crash of a sup- 
ply ^p, so that we necessarily 
may have neglected Mathews to 
some extent. Note, please, that 
this message h the 9 th ... . 



177 




Salvation 30, 2208 
CatHcart to Baumgartner 
081rmMC-5 
Subject: Evasion 
Dear boy: Y^u may not believe 
it, but tKere are worse places on 
this planet tHan Rednist. Speci- 
fically, let me call to your atten- 
tion Medical Outpost 116, located 
in a spot picturesquely named 
“Ssst,” from wHat Happens wHen 
you spit on tHe sand. Outpost 116 
is situated in tfie center of a kind 
of natural bowl. WHen tHe sun 
reacKes tHe zenitfi over tKis bowl, 
it is possible to be burned simul- 
taneously on aU exposed surfaces 
of tHe body, wHetEer tHe said sur- 
faces Happen to face up, down, 
nortK, soutH, east, or west. Owing 
to the really excessive seismic 
activity in tHe region, this is a 
surface station, of tHe tsqie moimt- 
ed on very large skids designed to 
flex witH tHe waves wHen tfie 
quakes Hit. Unfortunately, tfie 
elastic-rebound qualities of tfie 
sldds sometimes react unfavora- 
bly witH tfie seismic waves, so 
tfiat you are going up wBen tfie 
ground is going down, and vice 
versa. THe mecHanical qualities, 
insulation, etc., of tfie station Have 
suffered accordingly. Permit me 
to point out tfiat tfiis outpost Has 
been untenanted for some time, as 
I Have been unable to find anyone 
witH tfie unique qualities desirable 
in tfie occupant of tfiis station. 
Let me point out, it would be of 

178 



great value for the Service to 
know how Mathews survived so 
long without water. Of course, 
you need not trouble yourself 
witH tfiis problem if it bores you. 
Note, please, that this message is 
the 6 th. . . . 

II August 3, 2208 
Baumgartner to CatHcart 
081RMmc-6 

Sir: I send separately complete 
copies of all records of this Center 
pertaining to former patient Sam- 
uel Matfiews. I realize tfiat it may 
be of some interest tfiat tfiis pa- 
tient survived severe exposure ov- 
er a relatively long period. How- 
ever, determination of tfie cause 
of this anomaly is not possibly 
wilfi tfie facilities available at this 
Center. We lack sufficient ad- 
vanced computer backup to cor- 
relate tfie data. In any case, data- 
sifting, data-anal 3 ^is, and theo- 
retical syntfieas is not tfife func- 
tion of this Center. 

II August 6, 2208 
Cafficart to Baumgartner 
081rmMC-7 
Subject: Reassignment 

Sir: Effective on receipt of tfiis 
message, you are removed as Di- 
rector of Redrust Medical Center, 
and reassigned to Medical Out- 
post 116. You will report to Medi- 
cal Outpost 116 on tfie next sup- 
ply ^p, traveling by way of 
KalaEell Water Extraction Center 

GAIAXY 




and SoutH Bonescorch Junction. 
Your assignment is: a) to repair 
and render Ht for occupancy Med- 
ical Outpost 116; b) to occupy 
Medical Outpost 116 until fur- 
tHer notice, maintaining it in op- 
timal condition, and duly oper- 
ating all recording equipment re- 
lating to solar radiation, tempera- 
ture, Humidity, atmospHeric pres- 
sure, wind-speed, incidence and 
severity of sandstorms, cyclones, 
groundslips, seimic tremor, etc., 
etc.; c) to render medical assist- 
ance to tBe occupants of tHe 
Equatorial Conversion District. 
To fadlitate your medical-assist- 
ance patrols. Medical Outpost 116 
will be equipped witH one (1) 
Model STV-4 sand-buggy. You 
are cautioned to operate tHis ve- 
hicle with due care, as vehicle 
malfunction, especially in tBe pro- 
longed dry season, is a major fact 
in tHe mortaHty rate of tBe Equa- 
torial Conversion District Bear in 
mind that due to electromagnetic 
disturbances, and violent meteor- 
ological and seismic activity, out- 
side Help is not to be anticipated. 

Date: II August 14, 2208 

From: Quincy CatHcait, Chief of 

Medical Services 

To: Robert Howland, Director, 

Kalahell Conv. Dist 

Subject: Desert Survival 

Recode: 081MCkc-l 

Sir: I am sending, separately, 
recordings of Sam Mathews’s con- 

BEHIND THE SANDRAT HOAX 



versations at Redrust Medical 
Center. It would appear that He 
expected to die and was passing 
along information He considered 
important. For instance, there is 
the following: 

Attendant’. Don’t overtire your- 
self, Mr. MatHews. Just settle 
back. 

Mathews: No. I’ve got to tell — 

Attendant: Not now. 

Mathews: It’s for my buddies. 
Look — 

Attendant: Lie back, please. 
Don’t overtire yourself. 

Mathews: l^o cares? I know 
I won’t make it Somebody else 
can make it. Listen — 

Attendant: Of course you’ll 
make it Now, I’ve got to give you 
tHis — 

Mathews: Write this down, will 
you? THe rat story’s right. You 
can eat grass and all. You can eat 
dry scratchweed. You can — 

Attendant: Sure you can. 

Mathews: You’ve got to get one 
alive. You can’t cook it 

Attendant: Jusf He back. 

Mathews: Are you going to 
write it down? 

Attendant: Sure. Let me jusi 
pull your sleeve up. 

Maifvews: [Then you can eat 
anything. Even scratchweed. It 
turns to water in your stomach. 

Attendant: Just He still while 
we get the H 3 rpogun .... There. 

Mathews: Are you going to 
write this down? Do you follow? 

179 




Attendant: Sure. You don’t 
cook ttie scratdiweed. Now— 

Mmthews: No! You doiit iet 
it! It’s tHe lat you don’t cooki 

Attendant: Sure. Sure. You 
cook die weed, you don’t cook tBe 
rat. Lie back. 

Mathews: It’s not . . . you eat 
it raw . . . tBe weed . . . you 
wotilda’t, au 3 nvay .... 

Attendant: Lie down, now. 

Mathews: No .... But ^e rat 
. . . you . . . important to remem- 
ber , . . tiSe rat ... . 

Attendant: Sure .... Wfiewl 
He’s under. F^inally. 

Br. HinauitR: Try to keep 
your reassurances more general. 
Avoid specifics. 

Tliis conversation seems to 
^Sow Mat&ews trying to get 
something across. I would value 
your opinion as to wBat tKis 
socnetfiing might be. 

Date: II August 18, 2208 
From: Robert Howland, Director, 
Kalabell Conv. Dist. 

To: Quincy CatKcart, Chief of 
Medical Services 
Subject: Desert Survival 
Reo^e: 08.ImcKC-2 

Sir: Many thanks. I’ve wanted 
ffieee records for a long time. As 
for Mathews’s “rat story*’— that’s 
a kind of legend. The basis is a 
oroature called a sandrat that 
burrows at the base of the larger 
dialaqui weed and suiuustle 
stalks. This creature is active 

1S9 



while other local life is estivating. 
The legend is that if a man will 
cat^ a sandrat, cut out its diges- 
tive tract and eat it raw, he will 
be able to live in the desert vnth- 
out water. This is supposed to 
have been the secret of “Desert 
Bill,” an early settler renowned 
for Es ability to survive the des- 
ert. I’ve never taken the story 
seriously, and considering what 
you have to do to test it, I don’t 
know anyone who has tested it. 
But I’m calling for volunteers. 

September 17, 2208 
Howland to Cathcart 
081mcKC-3 

Sir: Well, it took work to find 
volunteers, and 1 had to offer a 
week’s leave in the worst fleshpot 
in the hemisphere. But we have 
now tried it out. Don’t ask me 
how it could be, but one volun- 
teer went almost three weeks 
without wat^, and another went 
uzteen da 3 rs. This won’t convince 
everyone, but I’m notif 3 ring all the 
conversion districts. Now, if a 
man gets stranded, he has a 
chance. 

September 19, 2208 
Cathcart to Howland 
D8lMCkc-4 

Sir: Congratulations. I now 
have a cage of sandrats myself, 
but no volunteers. What’s the 
name of that fleshpot? Once I 
have volunteers, I intend to im- 

GALAXY 




pose controls so stringent no one 
in his right mind can question the 
results. Of course, that won’t in- 
clude everybody. 

Ill 

P rinceps, New Venus, Ocnovdec 
30, 2208. Dr. Charles de P. 
Bancroft, Director-in-Chief of the 
Interscience Federation today re- 
buked Dr. Quincy Cathcart for 
his “sandrat hoax.” 

In an unprecedently severe 
public statement. Dr. Bancroft 
charged: “This absurd parody of 
an experiment exposes New Venus 
Science to the ridicule of more 
mature scientific bodies every- 
where. Niunerous palpable errors 
in this widely publicized — I 
might almost say widely adver- 
tised — report qualify it as a 
treatise on ‘What to Avoid in Sci- 
ence.’ 

“To begin with, the sample em- 
ployed was noi pure. Assuming 
the results to be as stated, no one 
could say what agent or agents 
were responsible. 

“Second, it is absurd to suggest 
that sud^ results could be pos- 
sible; obviously, digestive action 
would destroy the ingested tissue, 
and with it its presumed magical 
power to change food into drink. 

“Tffird, even assuming the in- 
gested tissue were not digested, 
peristaltic action would reject it 
from the body. 

BEHIND THE SANDRAT HOAX 



“This should give some sugges- 
tion of the flaws in this ‘experi- 
ment.’ Even la 3 mien can under- 
stand such fallacies. 

“However, to the scientist, oth- 
er flaws are at once evident. This 
experiment is not ‘elegant.’ It 
lacks the sense of Torm’ which 
gives the conviction of validity. 
Moreover, there is nothing quan- 
titative about it. 

“There can be no excuse for 
such an imposture. 

“I call upon Dr. CatKcart to 
publicly admit that this so-called 
experiment is not^g more nor 
less than a hoax. This may, at 
least, permit New Venus Science 
to regain some shreds of scientific 
credibility.” 

Operations Central, New Venus, 
Janlehmar 4, 2209. Dr. Quincy 
Cathcart, Chief of Medical Serv- 
ices, today rephed to the criticism 
of Dr. Charles de P. Bancroff. Re- 
ferring to Dr. Bancroff as a “pe- 
dant laboriously mining his rut,” 
Dr. Cathcart stated: 

“In the formal organization of 
which we are both members. Dr. 
Bancroff is an administrator, not 
a scientist. As a scientist, I decline 
to accept any judgment based on 
Dr. Bancroff s opinions. That his 
statement is unscientific is easily 
shown: 

“1) He bases His argument on 
the grounds that my experiment 
mi^t cause “New Venus Science’ 

181 




to lose caste in tKe eyes of otKers. 
This is suppression «f data for 
fear of unpopularity. 

“2) He states that the experi- 
ment cannot be correct, because it 
disagrees with His presuppositions. 
This is the attempted refutation 
of physical facts by favored theo- 
ries. 

“3) He objects that the exi>eri- 
ment is not ‘elegant,’ and hence 
cannot be true. This is the subor- 
dination of Science to Esthetics. 

“4) He complains that the ex- 
periment is not ‘quantitative.’ 
Note that each volunteer ate one 
sandrat digestive tract and then, 
while carefully and continuously 
sui>erviBed, existed for stated 
days, hours and minutes without 
drinking water. All that is requir- 
ed of an experiment is that it 
proves a point, and that the facts 
be so reported as to be capable 
of independent check. It is xm- 
scientific to include irrelevant 
data and superfluous charts and 
calculations merely to make the 
experiment ‘look scientific.’ 

“My learned colleague’s objec- 
tions are those of the scholastic 
pedant, not of the scientist. 

“In science, theories are based 
on tacts, not vice-versa.’’ 

Princeps, New Venus, JanieH- 
'mar 6, 2209. By 8-4 vote, the Per- 
sonnel and Appointments Com- 
mittee today Bred Dr. Quincy 
Cathcart, Chief of Medical Serv- 
182 



ices. By unanimous vote, the 
Committee on Professional Con- 
duct formally censured Dr. Cath- 
cart for “unprofessional conduct.’’ 

Rathbone, New Venus, Janfeb- 
mar 8, 2208. Dr. Quincy Cathcart, 
former Chief of Medical Services, 
in a brief statement commented 
on lus expulsion from office and 
the formal rebuke delivered by 
the Intersdence Federation. Dr. 
Cathcart said : 

“By these measures, the gov- 
erning bodies of the so-called In- 
tersdence Federation reveal them- 
selves as composed largely of sy- 
cophants, obsequious to an ad- 
ministrator who, as I have dem- 
onstrated, does not know what 
science is. These people may, of 
course, take thdr stand with who- 
ever they wish. I will stand with 
Galileo.’’ 

Princeps, New Venus, Janieb^ 
mar 8, 2209. By 7-5 vote, the 
Committee on Accreditation to- 
day placed Quincy Cathcart on 
“indefinite suspension of profes- 
sional status.’’ A spokesman ex- 
plained: “Thi$ means Cathcart 
cannot practice, and further that 
no paper or presentation of his 
may be considered by any ac- 
cepted medium for the dissemin- 
ation of professional information 
or opinion.’’ 

The action was taken “to avert 
harmful public controversy.” 

GALAXY 




IV 

aifiBone, New Venus, April 16, 
2209, .Two magnetic-sieve 
pro^ctors readied Here today, 
Haggard from exposure and lack 
of rest, to tell of a waterless trek 
across tHe Salamari Waste. TKey 
attribute tKeir survival to “travel 
by night, an accurate map, and 
two raw sandrats.” 

Flarnish, New Venus, May 1, 
2209. Doctors Here are puzzled by 
the case of a fourteen-year-old 
boy who eats grass, refuses to 
drink water, and apparently suf- 
fers no harmful effects. He insists 
he ate a sandrat. 

Bonedry, New Venus, May 26, 
2209. Hank J. Perdval, proprietor 
of the Last Chance Supply Mart, 
reports a brisk sale of sandrats 
to prospectors, surveyors, and 
cable riggers, ^tting out across 
the BonescorcH Plateau. 

Princeps, New Venus, May 29, 
2209. Experiments carried out un- 
der the auspices of the Intersd- 
ence Federation “demonstrate 
that the effectiveness of sandrat 
ingestion in preventing dehydra- 
tion is a myth. Careful experi- 
mentation with measured quanti- 
ties of crushed digestive tissues of 
laboratory sandrats shows no sta- 
tistical increase in resistance to 
dehydration.” 

BEHIND THE SANDRAT HOAX 



South Bonescorch Junction, 
New Venus, June 10, 2209. F^lip 
Baumgartner, from Medical Out-' 
post 116, collapsed shortly after 
arrival here this morning. Baum- 
gartner explained that His sand- 
buggy broke down “ten to twdve 
days ago” and he’d been on foot 
ever since. A small wire cage lined 
with sunrustle stalks, and now 
empty, was found secured to his 
pack straps. Such sandrat kits 
are sold locally for use in case the 
purchaser gets lost without water. 

Princeps, New Venus, June 22, 
2209. By order of R. Q. Harling, 
Planetary Food and Drug Admin- 
istrator, all sales of “sandrats or 
related rodents, for use in pre- 
venting dehydration,” were today 
forbidden as “dangerous to the 
public health, both directly in 
light of possible infestation by 
possible indigenous intestinal par- 
asites and indirectly because of 
the mistaken belief that sandrat 
internal organs are a specific 
against dehydration. This myth 
has been thoroughly exploded by 
controlled scientific experimenta- 
tion.” 

Bonedry, New Venus, June 26, 
2209, Hank J. Percival, proprietor 
of the Last Chance Supply Mart 
stated today he is continuing sales 
of sandrats, “as pets.” 

Broke and Ended, New Venus, 

1»3 






June 27, 2209. Sandra Corregiano, 
a missing tourist on the Trans- 
I Desert Safari, was today brought 
out after an extensive search' 
around Mineral Flats. Miss Cor- 
regiano explained that sKe had 
caught a sandrat. “I Hated to kill 
the poor thing,” sKe said, “and I 
f nearly died with' tKe — you know 
— what you Have to do with’ 
them. But then I was all right.” 

Princeps, New Venus, July 6, 
2209. Planetary Food and Drug 
Administrator Harling today 
warned that He will “proceed to 
tKe courts” in all cases wherein 
sandrats are sold contrary to law. 
Administrator Harling added that 
He will prosecute offenders “vig- 
orously, to tKe full extent of the 
enforcement resources at my dis- 
posal.” 

Princeps, New Venus, July 8, 
2209. TKe Planetary Food and 
Drug Administration today re- 
leased results of cKemical analy- 
sis of tKe sandrat digestive tract, 
by an independent analytical 
laboratory “of recognized stand- 
ing”, No cause for protection 
against deKydration was found. 

Bonedry, New Venus, July 10, 
2209. TKe bodies of two Planetary 
Food and Drug Administration 
field agents were found near Here 
this morning. Evidence seems to 
show that the two PFADA agents 

GALAXY 



sEot eacE otHer in a gun battle. 
Cause of the fight is not known. 

South Bonescorch Junction, 
New . Venus, July 14, 2209. A 
PFADA agent was found dead in 
tSe wreckage of his sand-buggy 
this morning. Evidence thus far 
uncovered appears to indicate 
that the sand-buggy’s engine ex- 
ploded. 

Sla^ Hills, New Venus, July 19, 
2209, The body of a PFADA field 
agent found here the day before 
yesterday was today shipped back 
to Princeps. Cause of death was 
a large bullet hole in the left 
chest. 

Princeps, New Venus, July 20, 
2209. PFADA administrator Har- 
ling today announced that en- 
forcement of his .sandrat-sales 
policy is being “temijorarily sus- 
pended, pending completion of a 
massive public-education cam- 
paign.” 

Princeps, New Venus, July 22, 
2209. Dr. Charles de P. Bancroff, 
Director-in-Chief of the Intersci- 
cnce Federation, today unveiled 
results of a new experiment “to 
determine the possible effects of 
sandrat ingestion.” The intestinal 
tracts of sixteen sandrats, raised 
at the PFADA laboratories near- 
by, were “thoroughly macerated, 
divided into one Hundred por- 

BEHIND THE SANDRAT HOAX 



tions, and each weighed p>ortion 
mixed with a weighed sample of 
a si>ecific local plant. In no in- 
stance was the proportion of wa- 
ter significantly increased by ad- 
mixture with sandrat intestine.” 
Dr. Bancroff stated: “I am amaz- 
ed that superstition can persist in 
the face of repeated consistently 
negative experimental evidence.” 

Dry Hole, New Venus, July 28, 
2209. Sixteen inmates of the Dry 
Hole Correctional Training Insti- 
tute have disappeared in the last 
month. It is believed the prisoners 
are getting away as fast as they 
can catch sandrats. Owing to the 
isolated location of the Institute, 
and the local lack of surface wa- 
ter, it was never thought necessary 
to use an escape-proof outer wall. 

Princeps, New Venus, I August 
4, 2209. Officials of the Intersci- 
ence Federation today announced 
new measures to “eradicate the 
sandrat superstition.” A concerted 
effort will be made to coordinate 
teaching materials of all types, to 
render this superstition psycho- 
logically distasteful. Special men- 
tion was made of the trideo film. 
Disaster in the Desert, which, said 
a spokesman, “illustrates, step by 
step, the chain of causation lead- 
ing from acceptance of the myth 
to the ultimate test, when the 
family sand-vehicle malfunctions 
in the desert. Then there is this 

185 




distressing scene with the sand- 
rats, and afterward we experience 
the deterioration the family, 
physically and mentally, and the 
horror as they try to eat sunrustle 
stalks and othe^' things of that 
type, and realize that they don’t 
turn into water. We got Peter de 
VianEof and Celeste Silsine for 
the principal characters — the 
stars of our show — and we think 
they’ve done a really superb' and 
convincing job for us. It’s one 
thing to just be told an old wives’ 
tale is false. It’s something else 
to actually experience it this way, 
right before your eyes.” Another 
official stated, “We’re going to 
pull out all the stops. We’re going 
to crush this superstition.” 

V 

ate: Frigidor 26, 2212 
From: Presley Mark, Presi- 
dent, New Earth Research 
To: Col. J. J. Conrobert, C. O., 
Stilwell Base, New Earth 
Subject: Dehydrated Water? 

Con: Sorry this reply is late, 
but we’ve had a little trouble here. 
Some jackass greased the liquid 
air machine. Regarding your 
query as to whether there is any 
way to solidify water without 
freezing, I would certainly say, 
“No.” But some vague memory 
keeps circulating through my 
mind. 

What’s your problem? 

186 



Date: Frigidor 27, 2212 
From : J. J. Conrobert, C. O., Stil- 
well Base, New Earth 
To: Presley Mark, President, 
New Earth Research 
Subject: Outposts 

Pres: The problem is, I’ve got 
eighteen detached observation 
posts in this freezebox, and sup- 
plying them is driving me nuts. 

I’ve tried to explain through 
channels that these outposts serve 
no useful purpose, that anytlung 
incoming — aliens, bootleg space- 
craft, planetary raiders, you name 
it — will show up on the screens. 
The generals tell me screens can 
be fooled and visual observation 
is a useful backup. That’s that. 

Well, we’ve got pretty rugged 
terrain. These observation posts 
are at high elevations, sunk into 
windswept crags overlooking wide 
sweeps of territory. We can’t pro- 
vision them from the air, because 
of dangerous wiinds and violently 
impredictable meteorological con- 
ditions in general. We supply 
them from the ground. There’s no 
vehicle or pack animal that can 
handle this. We do it. Every time 
we supply these outposts, it’s like 
a battle. What gets us worst is 
water. In summer, it sloshes and 
shifts. In winter, the snow is con- 
taminated by spores of the para- 
site of a solitary overgrown wolf 
that gets moisture by gulping 
snow. This parasite will infest hu- 
mans, which complicates every- 

GALAXY 





thing from the first snowfall to 
the middle of summer. 

Yes, I realize waste can be pur- 
ified, but kindly think over our 
budget, our conditions and tEe 
imscientific viewpoint of the 
troops. 

Incidentally, I might add tfiat 
this solitary powerful wolf finds 
our isolated snow-melting water- 
boiling shelters ideal for winter 
headquarters. 

Now, these difficulties are sam- 
ples. They don’t exhaust the list. 
All these things interlock; you 
can’t do this for one reason, or 
that for another reason. But if 
we could eliminate this water- 
delivery problem, with its com- 
plications of liquidity, freezing- 
point, spores, melt-houses, snow- 
wolves, etc., it would simplify 
things enormously. 

Could you work up some kind 
of gelatin, and when it cools it’s a 
powder. Then when it’s eaten, ffie 
water is released? Never mind if 
it weighs twice as much. We 
would gladly trade complications 
for some straightforward drudg- 
ery. 

Date : Frigidore 29, 2212 
From: Mark, New Earth Re- 
search 

To: J. J. Coiu-obert, Stilwell 
Subject: Nonliquid Non-Ice Wa- 
ter 

Con: Am onto a weird track 
that may solve your problem — a 

BEHIND THE SANDRAT HOAX 



discovery made on our sister 
planet True to form, they gmg- 
ed up on the discoverer, who 
showod some originality. Will let 
you know what I find out. 

Date: September 16, 2212 
From: Mark, New Earth Re- 
search 

To: J. J. Conrobert Stilwell 
Subject: Waterless Water 

Con: My investigations into 
New Venus “science” disclose that 
there is a creature there called a 
“sandrat” that lives on dry stalks 
while the other creatures sleep out 
the hot weather. For years, the 
local people have known this, and 
it appears that someone, stranded 
without water, decided that if he 
ate the creature, maybe he could 
do it, too. 

Obviously, this couldn’t work. 
But he tried it, and it did work. 

Our experiments show that, in 
this particular animal’s digestive 
S 3 ^tem, there’s a culture of mi- 
croorganisms that breaks down 
cellulose. These microorganisms 
are passed on from generation to 
generation, when the mother 
sandrat feeds the baby pre-chew- 
ed food. 

When the human eats the sand- 
rat, the human’s digestive juices 
naturally tend to kill the micro- 
organisms. But the human is hop- 
ing against hope that he too can 
now process dried weeds and 
make water out of them. He 

187 




promptly chokes down dried 
weed. The microorganisms go to 
work on it and produce among 
other things, a kind of porous 
charcoal dust, and water. THe 
cellulose, you see, is (CeHioOs), 
or [C 0 (H 2 O)s], provided you re- 
member the h 3 rdrogen and oxygen 
are not actually joined as water 
to form a hydrate. The micro- 
organism takes care of this prob- 
lem. Don’t ask me how just yet. 
It will take us a while to figure 
this out But here is your dry 
water, if you don’t mind the 
weight penalty. 

Evidently, the New Venus au- 
thorities fed their laboratory 
sandrats on starchy food and 
water. This microorganism, for 
some reason, doesn’t like starch, 
and dies for lack of cellulose. 
Hence, their experiments demon- 
strated that the actual facts were 
imaginary. By means of a propa- 
ganda campaign, they rammed 
■"^is revelation down the throats 
of the ptopulace. Nice, eh? 

To get back to our problem, 
we’ve tried cultures of the micro- 
organism and find they will work 
on sawdust, amongst other forms 
of cellulose. Am sending cultures 
and live sandrats for your own 
use. 

Don’t know if this solves your 
problem, but it’s a start. Inciden- 
tally, we find we get the best re- 
sults with the raw digestive tract 
of the sandrat Let me know how 

188 



military discipline solves this 
problem. 

We are also interested to see 
how New Venus “science” will ex- 
plain the dilemma created by oiu 
report. We are releasing it in a 
special way. 

Rathbone, New Venus, II Au- 
gust 16, 2212. Quincy Cathcart, a 
seed salesman here, today made 
public the text of a communica- 
tion from Dr. C. J. Horowitz, 
Director of Research at the pres- 
tigious New Earth Research Cor- 
poration. Dr. Horowitz’s message 
reads, in part: 

“. . . We wish to publicly ac- 
knowledge the prior date of your 
investigations into this important 
matter and to acknowledge fur- 
ther that your conclusions have 
been found to be entirely accur- 
ate. 

“Owing to your researches, our 
efforts have been greatly facili- 
tated. 

“Mr. Presley Mark, President 
of ^e Corporation, has suggested 
your name for our Mark Medal 
and accompanying cash award. 
As you may know, this prize has 
not been awarded for three years, 
so that the award money has ac- 
cumulated. We will be in touch 

'P • • 

Princeps, New Venus, II Au- 
gust 18, 2212. P. L. Sneel, spokes- 
man for the Legal Staff Section of 

GALAXY 




tKe Interscience Federation, today 
warned tKat Quincy CatKcart, 
Rathbone seed salesman, “cannot 
legally accept any payment, emo- 
lument, reward, prize, or otfier 
recompense for performance of 
services wHicH fie is legally de- 
barred from rendering. Under 
Sections 223, 224, and 226, Catfi- 
cart must refuse sucfi payment or 
suffer the full legal penalties.” 

Rathhone, New Venus, II Au- 
gust 20, 2212. J. Harrington Sav- 
age, prominent Princeps attorney 
visiting at tfie fiome of Dr. Quincy 
Cadicart, today announced tfiat 
“tfiis allegation of tfie Legal Staff 
Section of tfie Interscience Fed- 
eration is in violation of Section 
6, wfiicH specifically prohibits ex 
post facto laws. Dr. Catficart may 
be rewarded, to any extent and 
without limitation, for past serv- 
ices, rendered at a time when fiis 
outstanding qualifications were 
fully accredited. Any attempt of 
tfie Interscience Federation to en- 
force tfiis ruling will be met with 
legal action on whatever scale 
may prove necessary.” 

Princeps, New Venus, August 
22, 2212. R. J. Rocklasfi, of tfie 
law firm of Savage and Rocklasfi, 
today announced' tiiat fie repre- 
sents tfie relatives of one hundred 
sixty-two exposure victims lost in 
desert localities. Mr. Rocklasfi 
charges, “These people are vic- 

BEHIND THE SANDRAT HOAX 



tims of tfie propaganda of the In- 
terscience Federation, which 
struck from tfieir hands tfie ob- 
vious remedy and thus killed 
tfiem.” 

Princeps, New Venus, II Au- 
gust 23, 2212. P. L. Sneel, of tfie 
Interscience Federation’s legal 
staff, revealed today tfiat tfie Fed- 
eration, “as a gesture of reconcil- 
iation toward a former colleague 
fallen from grace,” will not insist 
tfiat Quincy Catficart refuse pay- 
ment for past services; “but Cath- 
cart must be exceedingly careful 
to remember tfiat fie is debarred 
from undertaking to render any 
services, now or in tfie future, for 
wfiicli hie is professionally disqual- 
ified.” 

Rathbone, New Venus, August 
24, 2212. J. Harrington Savage, 
attorney for Dr. Quincy Catficart, 
today warned tfie Interscience 
Federation tfiat, “no gesture of 
reconciliation has any legal stand- 
ing whatever in tfiis matter. The 
Interscience Federation statement 
of II August 23, 2212 presupposes 
that tfie Federation may grant or 
withhold prosecution as an act of 
favoritism. Tfiis calls irito ques- 
tion the propriety of Federation 
policy and its legal validity under 
sections 66, 67, and 68, governing 
tfie relations of governmental au- 
thorities and tfie citizens of New 
Venus. We are examining tfie very 

189 




serious implications of tKia state- 
ment. If need be, a broad legal 
attack will be instituted to crusti 
tlie evils infierent in sucfi arbitrary 
and imprincipled beHavior.” 

* 

Princeps, New Venus, II Au- 
gust 26, 2212. Byron T. Fisfier, 
well known popular autHor, ar- 
rived Here today on tlie spaceliner 
@ueen of Space. Mr. Fisfier fias 
come “to do researcK on my new 
book, The Martyrs and Tyrants 
of Science." 

Dry Hole, New Venus, II Au- 
gust 29, 2212. Tfiree tourists 
stumbled out of the desert fiere at 
first light this morning and attri- 
buted tfieir safe arrival to “sand- 
rats and chalaqui weed.” Tfiey 
displayed official Interscience 
Federation Tourist Guide pam- 
phlets warning tfiat “tfie quaint 
belief tfiat ingestion of sandrats 
digestive organs will obviate tfie 
need for water is simply an old 
wives’ tale. Scientific experimen- 
tation demonstrates tfiat tfie 
sandrat is as dependent upon liq- 
uid water as any otfier creature.” 
All tfiree tourists stated tfiat tfiis 
pampElet was wfiat nearly kill- 
ed tfiem. 

Princeps, New Venus, Septem- 
ber 6, 2212. In cfiaotic sessions of 
tfie governing bodies of tfie Inter- 
science Federation tfie following 
actions were today taken: Dr. 

190 



Charles de P. Bancroft stepped 
down as Director-in-Cfiief, citing 
reasons of fiealtfi. By unanimous 
vote, tfie Committee on Accredi- 
tation reversed its former decree, 
to restore tlie full qualifications 
of Dr. Quincy Catficart, former 
Cfiief of Medical Services. Tfie 
Committee on Professional Con- 
duct narrowly defeated a motion 
to overturn its formal rebuke of 
Dr. Catficart, wKose name, fiow- 
ever, was returned to the active 
roster. In a furtfier upheaval, tfie 
Legal Staff Section was drastical- 
ly overfiauled. So far, tfie Board 
fias proved unable to select a suc- 
cessor to Dr. Bancroft, and is re- 
portedly split into violent fac- 
tions. 

Princeps, New Venus, Septem- 
ber 8, 2212. Dr. Sfierrington Sfiiel 
was today named Director-Gen- 
eral of tfie Interscience Federa- 
tion. Dr. Cfiarles de P. Bancroff 
resigned from tfie Board of Di- 
rectors, to become Bead of a spe- 
cial Internal Procedures Study 
Group. Dr. Sfiiel’s elevation va- 
cated tiBe post of Cfiief of Medi- 
cal Services, and tfie Personnel 
and Appointments Committee 
unanimously approved Dr. Catfi- 
cart as Cfiief of Medical Services. 
An inside observer wfio asked not 
to be identified observed tfiat, 
“Now we fiave Justice. Wfietfier 
we get Trutfi out of it remains to 
be seen.” 



GALAXY 




Date: September 12, 2212 

Fram: Quincy Catficart, CHief of 

Medical Services 

To : Pliilip Baumgartner, Medical 

Outpost 116 

Subject: Reassignment 

Recode: 121MCmll6-l 

Sir: Owing to retirements and 
promotimis, tKe position of Di- 
rector of Redrust Medical Center 
is now open. If you wisfi to accept 
tKis position let me know at your 
earliest convenience. I appreciate 
tHat you may encounter some dif- 
ficulty in leaving your present 
post xmtil tlie rains subside, in 
view of tKe surrounding bowl- 
sHaped terrain. As I recall, tHe 
station Has waterproof seals, and 
a cable-and-drum device to allow 
it to float up off its skids. I trust 
you Have kept tKe cable well 
greased. 

Date: Ocnovdec 26, 2212 
From: Quincy CatKcart, CHief of 
Medical Services 
To: Robert Howland, Director, 
KalaHell Conv. Dist. 

Subject: Science Wipes Out Su- 
perstition 

Recode: l21MCkc-l 

Sir: I quote, for your edifica- 
tion, tKe following from tKe newly 
publisKed PampHlet 2P-103 of the 
Interscience Federation Press, 
titled. Rusty Learns About Bto- 
tecbnotogy: 

“Yes, Rusty, for years people 
died m tKe desert, wKen a plen- 

BEHINO THE SANDRAT HOAX 



tiful supply of water was as near 
as tKe nearest vegetation — dry 
and useless tHougK it seemed. At 
tKat time, the organized research 
facilities of the Intendence Fed- 
eration had not yet created Bia< 
qua. But there was a way — by 
ingestion of certain internal or- 
gans of the common sandrat — ^to 
avoid the more Harmful effects of 
extreme solar exposure.” 

“Gee, Doctorl Didn’t the people 
know about it?” 

No, Rusty. Opinion Research 
instituted in April, 2211, showed 
that 92.65% of persons respond- 
ing beUeved ingestion of the in- 
ternal organs of the sandrat 
would Have no effect on dehydra- 
tion; 4.17% believed it might 
Have some effect; 2.49% did not 
mark tiieir ballots correctly; and 
only 0.69 % believed it would pre- 
vent deKydration, and most of 
these lived in primitive outlying 
regions and believed it purely on 
the basis of superstition and folk- 
lore. 

“Today, we instruct all travel- 
ers to carry Biaqua, and in emer- 
gency to overcome l£eir squeam- 
ishness and rely on this simple 
biotechnological means of obtain- 
ing water from dry plant tis- 
sues . . . .” 

Pamphlet 2P-103 goes on in 
this vein for many pages. 

Incidentally, I have informed 
the New Earth Research Corpor- 
ation that you carried out the 

191 




first formal experiments on l£is 
subject. THe credit belongs to 
you, not me. 

Date: Ocnovdec ^8, 2212 
From: Robert Howland, Director, 
Kalaliell Conv. Dist. 

To: Quincy Catficart, CEief of 
Medical Services 

Subject: Sandrats 
Recode 121mcKC-2 

Sir: No, you are tKe one wEo 
risked your neck. Anyway, it ap- 
pears to me tHe credit would ul- 
timately go to Desert BiU, but 
How do you get it to Him? 

If you’d like to do sometEing 
for me, I am cEronically sBort of 
trained personnel. As you recall, 
some time ago, one of my con- 
verter tecHnicians, Sam MatHews, 
turned up at Redrust Medical 
Center, tried to explain lEe plain 
trutH and finally decided t^at if 
He was going to be tHou^t nuts, 
He’d be nuts in tHe most profit- 
able way. He is still enjoying a 
free vacation at Lakes Central. 

Not long ago, one of my assis- 
tants went tfiere on business and 
Had a talk MatiSevra. MatH- 
ews complains tHat wHen He goes 
to bed at nigHt, tHe cot seems' to 
be bobbing up and down. He 
walks witH a rolling gait, as if He 
Had spent BSs life on tKe water. A 
Dr. TcHnudi, wHo is analyzing 
Him, is trying to get at His basic 
subconscious mecHanisms, and He 
is straining MatKews’s powers of 

192 



invention. Mathev.'s thus Has Hy- 
drotHerapy coming out of His 
ears, and fie Hungers and thirsts 
after some place wHere He can 
“look anywfiere, and not see more 
tfian one canteen of water at a 
time.” 

I Hope you will take care of 
this, as I Have just tHe spot for 
Him. 

Ocnovdec 30, 2212 
Catficart to Roberts 
l21MCkc-3 

Sir: I am Happy to say tfiat 
TcHnudi willingly let go of MatH- 
ews, stating tfiat He believed fie, 
Tc&udi, Bad effected a complete 
cure. Matfiews is on His way back 
to you, and if you will just Hang 
Him up for a week or so and let 
ffie water drain out, I imagine He 
will be all right. 

MeanwHile TcHnudi, elated ov- 
er tfie “cure,” is elaborating His 
sessions with Matfiews into a gi- 
gantic tome tfiat doubtless will 
make His reputation, will very 
possibly found a scKool of 
tHougHt and perhaps make Him 
“immortal.” 

Tfiis MatHews case Has certain- 
ly been illustrative of tHe contin- 
uing conquest of uninformed pre- 
judice by tKe rational forces of 
science. 

Tfie only trouble is, tKere are 
times wKen it’s a little Hard to 
tell wHicH is wHicH. 

— CHRISTOPHER ANVIL 

GALAXY 




GALAXrS STARS 



H. (for Horace) U. (for Leo) 
Gold is not only a writer of 
considerable stature in science 
ficti(»i and fantasy, Be is one wHo 
Has a special relation to IBis par« 
ticnlac science-fiction magazine. 
He started it. From its first is- 
sue, eigBteen years ago tBis 
montB, until tBe end of 1960, it 
was Horace Gold wHo set tHe 
polides, developed tHe writers 
and acBieved tBe remarkable lev- 
el of quality wHcE made Galaxy 
tBe most-antBologized magazine 
of tBe past two decades. 

By 1950 Gold was already a 
Veteran of more iBan twenty 
years in tBe field. He began writ- 
ing science fiction under tHe pen 
name of “Clyde Crane Camp- 
bell," but it was under tus own 
name tSat sucB famous stories as 
None But Lucifer, Trouble with 
Water, A Matter of Form and 
many otBers were publisHcd. 
WBen Be left tBe editorship of 
Galaxy for BealtB reasons, lie 
continued writing; now He lives 



near Los Angeles, witB His wife 
and young daughter, SBeryl. His 
son, Eugene Gold, is also His col- 
laborator, at least at such tim^ 
as young Gold can spare time 
from His full-time career as a 
pBotograpBer. 

Larry S. Todd, whose The 
Waibots marks Bis first appear- 
ance in Galaxy, is no stranger to 
our companion magazine. If. (He 
was represented tfiere last month 
with a memorable novelette^ 
Flesh and the Iron.) An under- 
graduate at Syracuse University 
( a veritable Botbed of science 
fiction activity; cover artist 
Vaughn Bod6 and writer Rich- 
ard Wilson are also to be found 
there), Todd botH writes and 
illustrates His own stories. 

Sidney Van Scyoc, the wife of 
an Air Force pilot, appeared a 
number of times in Galaxy, a 
few years ago. But Her literary 
career was interrupted by the ex- 
igencies of dilldbearlng and rear- 
ing; now tliiit tlic children lire a 



193 




little older she is back witH us 
with A Visit to Cleveland Gen- 
eral. 

Kris Neville, .wKose Thyie 
Planet is in this i^ue, is a native 
of the red-dirt south, now trans- 
planted to Los Angeles, where he 
resides with his comely wife, 
Lillian, and the first installments 
of a family of yoimg Nevilles. 
Budda-like and unshakable, 
Neville is a familiar presence at 
West Coast science-fiction gatih- 
eiings. So is Larry Niven, new- 
est of the “Big Name” science- 
fiction writers. Niven’s first story 
was publi^ed in It tiSree years 
ago. Since then he has acQeved 
several dozen printed stories, at 
least three books (and more 
coming) and a Hugo for Eis It 
short story. Neutron Star, at last 
year’s science-fiction convention. 
All the Myriad Ways is another 
of his excursions into the short- 
er lengths of fiction; The Organ- 
leggers, a short novel coming up 
in a near-future issue of Galaxy, 
is more typical of his work. 
There’s a story heOnd All the 
Myriad Ways. For some time. 
Galaxy has been sponsoring a se- 
ries of interdisciplinary gather- 
ings between scientists and sci- 
ence-fiction writers, all over the 
United States. Through this in- 
formal “invisible college” sci- 
ence-fiction writers have visited 



Cape Kennedy, the Harvard Ob- 
servatory, various research facil- 
ities at M.I.T. and elsewhere in 
the fields of computer design and 
nuclear physics, meetings of sd[- 
entific groups in New York, 
Washington and California, etc, 
Niven, along with Galaxy contri- 
butor Fritz Leiber and Galaxy 
editor Frederik Pohl, was pres- 
ent at the Jet Propulsion Labor- 
atories last October, on the day 
when Mariner V telemetered back 
its findings on its successful fly- 
by of Venus — hence this story. 

Incidentally, what make these 
meetings between scientists and 
science-fiction writers produc- 
tive is a sort of reciprocal shar- 
ing of interests. A good many 
scientists are science-fiction fans; 
a good many science-fiction 
writers are fans of science. Some 
people, of course, are both; but 
it seems to be true fiiat a fair 
percentage of science-fictibn 
writers keep themselves informed 
about what’s happening in cos- 
mology, molecular biology, de- 
arion theory and all of the oth- 
er marches of science not so much 
out of professional interest, or 
even in the hope of being able to 
use the material in stories, as for 
pleasure. Scientists (and science- 
fiction writer) who are interest- 
ed in participating in such ses- 
sions in the future, please note. 



194 



OO 



GALAXY 




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